The Burning Phoenix
by Ickle-Ronnikens
Summary: The War is over. And so is Harry Potter.. or so he would like you to think... Read and then Review just reviewing immediately would be silly, how're you to know what's happened?
1. Chapter 1

The Burning Phoenix

01

The war was over.

For days on end no one knew if he was dead. The battle scene was turned upside down in search for any sight of remains; many were sceptical about them finding anything if his death had been less than pleasant, say by burning as the entire building had fallen to the ground. There were very few survivors; only Death Eaters. They appeared to have been driven into insanity at what they saw, mumbling things under their breath, something about a burning Phoenix and "him".

Yet all through the twisted and burnt metal of remains, none resembled that of Harry James Potter.

His close friends were sceptical of the announcement in the newspaper that declared both him and Lord Voldemort dead. "Poppy cock", her brother had announced; everyone thought he was grieving, but Ginny had reason to believe him. It didn't feel as if he was dead, when ever someone died Ginny got a twist in her stomach before she had even known it had happened. Women's intuition maybe. All she knew was she couldn't make herself believe he was never coming back.  
She hadn't mourned, hadn't shed a tear. Her mother had, Ginny had caught her over the kitchen sink the very next morning and had hugged her, still with her mother quivering in her arms unable to be moved. She'd been numb to a lot of things. She'd almost sliced her finger off and for a long time she had just looked at it as it spread and became a hot red. And for days on end she couldn't sleep, she lay awake watching the ceiling, waiting to see the light through her window and hear her mother make breakfast.

'She hasn't been sleeping,' Hermione was saying to Molly early one morning as Ginny made her way downstairs, tying up her robe.

Her feet were purposely quiet so she heard more.

'I know she loved him, so did I, but like Ron she's having trouble accepting the fact he's… well damn it, I am too. I suppose I always imagined he'd pull through, can't stand thinking about the fact that we've lost him. But we have. And there's no going back.'

'Good Morning.' Ginny said quietly taking a seat at the breakfast table.

'Good morning.' Her mother replied glancing at Hermione who'd busied herself at the sink. 'How are you feeling this morning?'

'Tired,' Ginny said a matter-of-factly.

Her mother didn't seem to know what to do about this.

'Well perhaps we could find a sleeping drought for you sweetheart. You need your rest.'

Ginny nodded and played with her breakfast only sipping her juice. She didn't eat much even though her mother's cooking was fabulous as usual. Arthur joined them soon, as did Ron and he and Hermione sat close talking to one another. It had been one of the most badly timed relationships in history by both of them – telling this to Harry and the rest of the world a month before his death.

Ginny knew Harry had never got over it.

Her breakfast eventually went cold and she chucked it and rinsed her plate. She took her orange juice and a book outside and was only there for a few minutes when Ron sat beside her.

'Gin. You OK? You're looking really pale.'

Ginny sipped her juice.

'Didn't sleep,' she said quietly.

Ron shook his head. 'You've got to stop doing this to yourself, Ginny.'

Ginny closed her eyes.

'I'm not doing it to myself; myself is doing it to me.'

To her it made perfect sense but Ron was looking confused.

'I can't help it. It's like I want to sleep and I want to eat but I can't, as hard as I try I can't seem to …and you think I'm nuts.'

She sighed and he took her hand.

'I don't think your nuts I think you just need to try a little harder.' He kissed her hand and hugged her. 'You can do it. You're strong, Ginny Weasley.'

He turned and Ginny saw Hermione at the door.

'Were going to Diagon alley, you want anything?' Ron asked.

Ginny shook and turned her head and heard them pop away. She wished she could just pop herself away to nowhere but she couldn't apparate yet so she settled for a long walk out in the fields behind the Burrow. She sat for what seemed like hours, wrapped in a light shawl in the warm summer weather. She watched the sun fade behind the clouds and sat until it had gone and she could hear her mother calling her. She'd missed lunch and her dinner was probably going cold. She waited a few minutes before getting up and going inside, halfway there Hermione was on her way out to get her.

Ginny thought she'd ought to say something but she couldn't think of anything and Hermione seemed to sense her hesitation.

'I just want you to feel better,' she said calmly and Ginny nodded.

Hermione held out her arms and Ginny sunk into her embrace and for some reason or another she begun to cry and her dinner had gone cold before she stopped.


	2. Chapter 2

02

A man is dead only by rumour.

They can be as alive as you and I breathing in the air but as long as people think your dead there's little or no hope. Once they have seen your pictures in papers with "DECLARED DEAD" there isn't much more thought given that you may well be alive. Harry Potter found himself in this predicament and wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to feel. He'd done his job, he'd killed Lord Voldermort and he'd gotten out alive.

ALIVE.

And everyone thought he was dead.

Then suppose he had the opportunity to tell everyone he was alive. Suppose he stood outside the Ministry of Magic, purposely disguised, trying to decide whether to go in and tell Arthur Weasley he was alive. For a long time he wondered if it really mattered. Maybe they were better off thinking he was dead. He stood outside the Burrow on a breezy day and was surprised to see none other than Ginny Weasley laze her way along the fields, in a shawl and skirt and not much else. She walked seductively; as if aware someone was watching her.

Hermione came out and Harry had to swallow, he'd missed her and Ron so much, despite the fact they'd declared themselves "in love" at such a optimistic time as they went into battle. He never got the chance to tell them he was happy for them; it just made him want to run up and declare himself alive even more.

But something stopped him as at that moment Ginny shrunk into Hermione's friendly outstretched arms and begun to shake with tears. Harry stood still wondering who it was that had made her cry. Perhaps it was a boyfriend or a relative? No. If it was either of them Ginny would face them and she wouldn't cry; she would only cry like that if it was someone she could not face.

Someone who was dead.

Harry could only watch as what he assumed was Ginny Weasley crying over him. Chances were it could be over something much more materialized but his gut told him it wasn't. For close to half an hour Hermione and Ginny sat together, Hermione assuming a big sister kind of role. Ron came out and sat on the other side of Ginny wrapping a long arm around her, he saw Hermione and Ron exchange one of their looks, one of those looks they had that said it all. Ginny was squished between them as Harry had many times found himself to be. It was well after dark by the time they went back into the house and Harry felt a twinge to follow them but he stayed where he was.

Why?

He didn't know.

'Why don't you just go to them, Harry? It's obvious you want too,' Remus Lupin asked him as he served breakfast next morning at Lupin Lodge.

'How?' Harry asked. 'Hey guys sorry you thought I was dead but I'm actually alive still so, surprise!'

Remus shook his head. 'Well obviously you wouldn't say that.'

Harry shrugged, 'I'm going for a walk, I'll see you later OK?'

He wasn't sure how long he walked for but it was well past lunch when he came back and Remus wasn't in sight. He froze at the door when he instead saw the one and only Ginny Weasley fiddling with the book in Remus' large bookcase, she hadn't returned to Hogwarts so she must be doing correspondence.

He was able to see her close up and on the warm summer day she was in very little. He was still as he watched her, in a very nice summer dress which came above her knees and shortened slightly as she reached up, his mouth twisted into a wry smile. She had grown up immensely and she was making his mouth dry.

She twisted around.

'Remus?' She asked quietly, Harry managed to duck out of sight quickly and silently.

She frowned slightly then shrugged and turned back to the shelves.

Harry glared through the window and breathed again as his eyes raked over her, slight curves on her slender body, he suddenly wondered what she'd think if she knew he was perving on her. She'd blush then smack him; the old Ginny would have just blushed and wanted to crawl under the carpet but this one, the one he'd just begun to know was a lot sassier.

She found the book with an 'AHA! GOTCHA!' and she settled into one of Remus' couches, Harry could see more of her legs that way and decided it was time to stop. He stalked through the meadows and emerged a few hours later hoping it was safe.

Remus was at his desk and was waving at him to come in.

'Hey,' Harry greeted, 'is Ginny gone?'

Remus nodded and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

'Would it of been such a bad thing if she had seen you?' Remus asked quietly. 'I am getting sick and tired of pretending you are dead.'

Harry sighed. 'Not yet, Remus.'

The werewolf shrugged.

'Just remember Harry, the longer you leave this, the worse it will become.'


	3. Chapter 3

03

Ginny was there next afternoon, waiting until she met Remus and he looked alarmed to find her sitting there.

'Hi Remus.'

'Ginny,' he breathed, 'you're here alone?'

Ginny nodded. 'I just wanted to come and get this theories book, you said I could come and borrow a book when I wanted.'

Remus smiled and nodded. 'Of course but how did you get in?'

Ginny shrugged. 'The door was open, and if you don't mind me saying so Remus, maybe you should think about locking the door when you're out.'

Remus nodded. 'I usually do. I must have just forgot about it, getting old and everything.'

Ginny smiled. 'You're not old. Not really old anyway.'

Remus gave a wry smile. 'Thank you for the vote of confidence. Would you like a cool drink or something?'

Ginny shook her head. 'No I really should get moving thank you anyway, I'll have this book back to you as soon as I can.'

'No hurry, Ginny. Keep it as long as you need.'

'Bye.' Ginny called as she left and almost ten minutes later while Remus was at his desk Harry poked his head in.

-

Her mum was making dinner when Ginny got home so she kissed her on the cheek, put Remus' books on her desk and went down to help. They had one of the new low fat recipes her mother was trying and Ginny was surprised to find it tasted fabulous. Hermione and Ron joined them flushed and giggling to themselves and after a few bites they excused themselves and went back upstairs.

'They really should eat something,' Molly commented and Arthur laughed.

'Leave them. They are in love; it only happens once or twice if you're lucky they should enjoy it while they are young.'

'Yeah and while Hermione isn't pregnant,' Ginny said dryly.

Her mother shook her head.

'Don't even say that.'

'Why not?' Ginny asked with a wry smile, 'they are horny enough.'

'Ginny!' her mother exclaimed, 'we have a couple of years left, at least.'

Ginny shrugged. 'If you say so. I'm going upstairs to read.'

Her parents nodded and quietly she went pausing at her doorway listening intently from the sound floating down from upstairs. For some reason she could always tell when someone was talking about her.

'She needs to get out more, meet new people. New boys. She can't be a recluse forever…'

Ginny didn't want to hear anymore so she entered her room, ignoring the noises coming from Ron's bedroom. She shut her door and put in her ear plugs and picked up the first book. Halfway through she came to a page with a piece of paper folded up four ways. Ginny frowned and took it out; it was in Remus' spirally handwriting.

19/12

Today Harry's death column was in the paper. I couldn't believe how long I looked at it and how for as long as I looked I couldn't believe it. I wondered what Lily and James would think. What Sirius would think and the longer I looked at it I know that they would never believe it either. I am glad I don't have to believe it. I'm sorry that others do.

Sincerely R.J.LUPIN

Poor Remus, Ginny thought softly. He was more disillusioned than any of them. "_I'm glad I don't have to believe it."_ Ginny knew the feeling and she was sickened by how much she had been absorbed in her own feelings. She was finished with them now and resolved to herself that she'd go and see Remus more often as she was sure she was one of the only ones who did.

-

Harry went to bed early that night, uncharacteristically tired. He pulled off his worn jeans and old jumper that Molly had knitted for him and for a moment stood in the mirror. He was tall, probably not as tall as Ron but definitely tall. He had lost a lot of the bulk he'd had in his last few years of school from little eating and no chance for muscle building. He had some heavy scars across his torso and his neck, none however that stood out as brightly as the one of his forehead. It no longer burned and it no longer glowed it was no longer special, just damn ugly. Yawning he crawled under the covers and slept for what felt like only a few minutes but was probably (isn't it always) hours.

He could hear Remus was still asleep so instead of waking him he stayed in bed and read until he couldn't stand it anymore and went down to fix breakfast. He earned his keep around the house without having been told, not that Remus would but Harry felt obliged. He made eggs on toast knowing well that Remus would be tired after the full moon just a few days ago. It was in those times that Harry had the house to himself that he felt really alone, no one would call in; no one would come by because they all knew Remus wouldn't be up to seeing anyone.  
But he was, and with no magic to aid him (he'd lost his wand and didn't want to risk being found by using magic) he set about things that had to be done. So as Hedwig for his only company - somehow she had found him - he sat and he did what he could, he read, he looked over his photo album.

Hedwig would sit and wait and watch him, expecting him to give her some mail, but he never did and before it was dark she would hoot and take off. She probably went to the Weasley's and he imagined they'd taken responsibility for her. Many a times he'd scribbled on a note something stupid like -:

Ginny I am not dead. I am at Remus' house. Please come and visit me and come alone. Harry.

He had hundreds of the same sentence, not always to Ginny, who ever it was that he missed at that particular moment; some for Ron, Hermione, Hagrid and he even remembered writing one, in a slight daze, to Sirius.

He remembered writing a letter to Sirius just after he had died, Harry had attached it to Hedwig's leg, told her to find Sirius and she had just looked at him, her little head swivelling around in a slight confusion.

Eventually she took off and when she came back it was gone, Harry never knew what she did with that letter and many more of those letters but he never questioned it, he supposed she was the one he could trust most to keep his secrets and his moments of weakness safe.

Remus came in to the room quietly, looking weaker and more drawn than he ever had. Harry had stopped bothering to ask him how he was because usually he didn't look to well so he settled for a gentle "good morning" and put the eggs and toast in front of him and Remus smiled slightly.

'I was wondering what smelt so nice, I thought I must have been dreaming,' he said to the young boy with a fatherly smile on his face.

Harry shrugged. 'It was easy, plus I was hungry.'

Remus sighed. 'You have lost a lot of weight. Maybe you should be eating a bit better; I need to start buying more food…'

'Remus, forget it. It's nothing OK? I just need to do a bit of exercise that's all.' Harry told him.

Remus cocked an eyebrow. 'You sure?'

Harry nodded and smiled. 'Relax. Besides I'm costing you enough money as it is.'

Remus was quiet for a moment. 'How's the job hunting?'

Harry sighed. 'No one wants to hire a kid that didn't even go to high school, so I'm aiming a bit lower for the moment.'

Remus stroked his chin. 'You know that there would be thousands of people wanting to employ you in the magical world.'

'Not too subtle, are you?' Harry asked with a half grin.

Remus shrugged. 'You know my opinion on the matter, but while I'm your elder I'm also your friend, and I know you'll do what's right, when its right.'

A few moments later a soft sweet voice rang out.

'Remus? Are you home? The door was open again.'

Ginny's fresh voice echoed through the halls and Harry was paralysed by it for just a moment. Her footsteps came closer and as Harry rushed out Remus cleared his throat.

'I'm in the kitchen Ginny, come through.'

'Hi. Sorry to barge in so early but I finished one of the books I borrowed I thought I'd return it.'

'That was thoughtful of you Ginny, but it wasn't so urgent.'

'Oh well I know I hate people borrowing my things for too long and since I've finished with it… oh do you have a guest?'

Harry swore under his breath, he'd left his plate sitting.

'Oh. No silly me I must of put two plates out for myself; ah well old age does that.'

Harry breathed. _Nice cover, Remus. _He thought, he crept up the rest of the way to his bedroom and quietly closed the door and locked it and picked up a book to read until Remus gave him word that the coast was clear. It was a couple of hours but Harry didn't mind, he could hear her voice from where he was and as he lay on his bed it lulled him slowly into sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

04

Ginny had the feeling that Remus didn't want her there so after a cup of tea, a chat and a quick sweep of his bookcase she thanked him and went on her way. With the books under her arm she stopped short in the fields of the burrow and read until dark. She supposed it was a bad habit but she didn't feel as if she was in any immediate danger. She heard her mother calling from the house and decided she better report for duty.

Before she went she turned, she felt someone was watching her but a scan of the empty meadows made her decide it was her imagination and she turned back and headed home. She bathed and changed before dinner until reading late into the night with one of Remus books and she dreamt strongly of Harry, so strongly that it would haunt her and keep her somber in the daybreak.

-

Harry stayed in his room until Remus knocked quietly.

'Harry are you asleep? She's gone I'm just about to make lunch if you're hungry.'

Harry was; he couldn't deny that so he got up and unbolted the door. 'Sounds great.'

Remus nodded.

'Come. You can help me I always forget what it is you like on your rolls.'

'You mean tomato, beetroot, gherkin, olive and onion?' Harry grinned, his taste in sandwiches always managed to get a shudder from the older man.

It came from living at the Dursleys and once they stopped locking him in he'd creep down to the kitchen at night and make a sandwich with whatever was left in the fridge. The combinations he had come up with would leave most people hacking for days.

'What did Ginny want?' Harry asked as they sat down to eat.

Remus shrugged. 'Nothing in particular I don't think. She just rattled on and tore through my bookcase. Poor thing it's no wonder she's terribly lonely these days. Since she refused to go back to Hogwarts especially, don't know why, she would see all her friends.'

Harry nodded slowly. 'She didn't say why she wouldn't?'

Remus shook his head. 'Just told her mother a flat out "no", either she studied at home or didn't study at all, so of course Molly arranged correspondence. Arthur always said she was as stubborn as a mule.

'I just didn't think she was as stupid either,' Remus continued, 'clearly a girl her age needs to be around people her age.'

Remus took a breath and for a moment seemed to be at peace with the world. Harry could understand his frustration for someone blocking themselves from society, since Remus had been on many occasions shunned by a society that would not accept him. To be out of that society by choice, Remus obviously could not understand such thinking.

Harry could though and as he cleaned up with Remus' wand he tried to think of the specific reasons why Ginny had chosen not to go back to Hogwarts. Perhaps she feared there were too many vivid memories about Harry, or that her friends would be less help than more – in which case Harry could see why her decision had been not to go.

-

He went for another walk that afternoon to clear his thoughts; leaving Remus to compile through his books (what he had left of them) and let his feet take him. And before he knew it he was scouting the fields on the skirts of Ottery St. Catchpole and nearing the Burrow. He froze as he spotted Ginny sitting on a slant hill reading one of Remus' books.

The sight of her seemed to calm him, and he sat by a tree and watched her longingly as the day went by. He thought of how he would love to be holding her right now, as she read. Sitting in the peace and quiet sunshine together with her hair reflecting so well in the sunlight; such thoughts made his stomach leap and feel like marching up to her and declaring himself alive.

But something stopped him.

He had no idea what and it was making him go nuts.

Ginny was suddenly getting to her feet and putting the book in her bag. Harry stood too, edging a little to the left so he was behind the tree and just in time; Ginny had looked around briefly to scout the fields before turning back and heading towards the Burrow.

Harry watched her go and was left to deal with the stiff legs against the ground. They would not let him go forward, only back; so he settled and turned to return to Remus' lodge. The older man was sitting at his desk asleep; a book Ginny had recently borrowed was open in front of him and a bit of parchment folded up four ways sitting noticeably at the tip of his nose. Very carefully and curiously Harry slipped the parchment literally from under Remus' nose and unfolded it to read.

19/12

Today Harry's death column was in the paper. I couldn't believe how long I looked at it and how for as long as I looked I couldn't believe it. I wondered what Lily and James would think. What Sirius would think and the longer I looked at it I know that they would never believe it either. I am glad I don't have to believe it. I'm sorry that others do.

Sincerely R.J.LUPIN

Harry did a sort of double take. He read it again to make sure, and then again, and again… hopeful his eyes were deceiving him. He knew they weren't. Ginny had surely read this; this! Remus knew she was going through every book he had for her correspondence and that she never let a page in a book slip by. Yet here he went – shoving personal notes in their pages that could very much give away Harry's secret.

But then he read it more thoroughly.

The letter didn't "completely" give him away. And Ginny hadn't asked Remus about it that he knew of. Perhaps he was over-reacting. He didn't know. But he wasn't going to wake up the grumpy elder man to ask a question that he knew was probably a mistake and thankfully, a costless mistake.

Harry let it roll off his shoulders and went to cook dinner, thinking he may bring it up in conversation by the end of the night.

-

Ginny made her way down to breakfast the next morning, Arthur had gone to work early so it was just Molly busying herself with breakfast. Ginny had sat down and grabbed the Daily Prophet to scan the front page before her mother realized she was there. Ginny had taken to looking at the front of the paper for any news – but of course there never was any.

Her mother was quite worried.

'Ginny…' she started.

'Morning.' Ginny said happily, helping herself to some pancakes her mother had freshly cooked, 'dad at work?'

'Err… yes,' said Molly, 'urgent business… something about flying saucers in Australia.'

Ginny nodded.

'Well… I'm going to Lupin's,' she announced, barely touching her food.

'Ginerva, no.'

She always used Ginny's real name when she was trying to get something across to her daughter. It was kind of her way of saying "definitely not".

It was similar to the way she would address Ron as "Ronald" when angry.

'I'm sure Remus may "say" he enjoys your visits and all but he does need his space, like the rest of us,' she said, 'and you seem to be spending every day there now-'

'That's why I go there mum,' Ginny explained, 'he's probably been affected by this the most – and hardly anyone visits him because of him being a…'

She trailed off and Molly eyed her.

'He has the books I need,' Ginny continued, 'the ones WE don't have.'

Molly sighed. 'The ones Hogwarts DO have-'

'Mum we've been over this…'

'Ginny I just don't want you to turn out a failure. Correspondence can sometimes do that.' Molly said.

'I won't. It won't.' Ginny said firmly, 'I just – need time…'

Molly said nothing.

'I'll be back by lunch I promise.' Ginny said quickly.

And before Molly could reply, her daughter had pecked her on the cheek and was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

05

Harry yawned as he woke the next morning pleasantly to the birds chirping outside and the strong smell of flowers and pancakes wafting through the air. He breathed in and sat up just as the door to his room opened and Remus popped in holding a tray of pancakes and eggs.

'Morning!' he said.

'Morning.' Harry replied half-heartedly.

'You sound cheerful,' said Remus as he stepped over the threshold, 'here I made breakfast. Seeming as you have for the past fortnight.'

'Thanks.' Harry said.

'I'm sorry I wasn't quite sure how you like your pancakes,' Remus shrugged, 'so I brought extra syrup.'

Harry laughed. 'Great. I usually do have them drowned in syrup actually.'

He added the necessary content until it was draining off the plate and onto the tray.

'Ginny been through on one of her daily raids yet?'

'Nope.' Remus said flatly.

'Good.' Harry said nodding.

Remus eyed him. 'Good? Does that mean you might be tell-'

'No.' Harry said firmly. 'I wanted to ask you last night you see – I'm not sure if I did – but did Ginny say anything about that note folded up in the book.'

Remus frowned. 'Note?'

'That one. Where you wrote about the column in the paper,' explained Harry, Remus looked confused so he added, 'of my death.'

'Oh.' Remus frowned again. 'I didn't realise it was- no she said nothing.'

Harry nodded.

'Does it give you away?' asked Remus, sounding hopeful.

'Not entirely,' said Harry, 'mainly that you are glad you didn't have to believe what you read – hopefully she saw it as an old man that's lost his way.'

Remus sighed reasonably loud. 'Hopefully…'

-

Ginny stepped over the threshold, his door was open again and there was no sign of him.

'Remus?'

She pondered her decision before closing the door and heading along the hallway. The kitchen was empty, as was the study area and the library so Ginny placed the book she had borrowed on Remus' desk and promptly raided the bookshelf.

'Ever heard of knocking?'

Ginny yelped and looked around. Remus stood smiling with a grin and holding a tray with a couple of empty plates.

'Remus!' Ginny breathed.

'Sorry to startle you.' He said smiling.

'I could have hexed you.' She said.

'And I you.'

'I'm sorry but the door was open and-'

Remus waved it off. 'Please. It's fine really – so you finished that book already?'

'Yes.'

'You certainly are tearing through them,' he informed her, discarding the tray in the sink, 'I'll be out of books soon.'

Ginny frowned. 'Remus, who was that tray for?'

'Huh?' Remus looked around. 'Oh- for me. You know, breakfast in bed. Thought I'd try something new.'

It was a bad lie, Remus knew it. Ginny pursed her lips but returned to the book shelf convinced all the same.

'Any recommendations this time?' she asked him.

'Actually… I think I might… ahh yes,' Remus happily moved away from Harry's empty tray and reached to the top shelf to grab a large dusty book, 'here's one you might like. Definitely seventh year material. An old book made in the early fifteen hundreds, it's also in the Restricted Section back at Hogwarts.

'Oh I would know,' Remus continued as Ginny looked at him funny, 'this very ONE was nicked by James and Sirius in our second year. There are some pages about ancient historical magic and warlords – but the reason they stole it is because it holds many detailed pages about Animagus and its process.'

Ginny suddenly became interested.

'Animagus?' she said, grabbing it rather forcibly from him.

'As I said, seventh year material,' said Remus, 'many teachers recommend a student to read this when they see absolute potential. And Ginny my dear – underneath that strong, neglected arrogance I see full potential for you. Perhaps not wasting a life time as a Historical warlord, but rather an Auror – and being an Animagus can be a lethal weapon for an Auror in many ways and many situations.'

Ginny nodded. 'Right.'

Seems like it was all she could say.

'Just have a read,' Remus said, smiling, 'take your time and assess your options. Perhaps ask your father about it, he has the right contacts at the Ministry – there is no reason why you can't potentially become a legal Animagus. And well… it could get your mind off some things.'

Ginny nodded. 'Thanks. Remus, really – thanks.'

Remus shrugged. 'No problem. Now would you like a cup of tea before you go?'

'Actually. Yes thanks that would be excellent,' Ginny smiled, thinking mainly to socializing with the werewolf, 'just a drop of milk, two sugars and-'

'Hold the cream, yes I know.' Remus smiled and busied himself over the stove. 'I may be old – but thankfully I have my memory.'

Ginny frowned at this as he had only the other day put out two plates for him rather than one. She didn't look into it that much, instead she managed to read three pages of the large book before Remus had made their tea and placed it on the table. She sat down with him, took a biscuit and informally talked to him for as long as she could.

She felt quite sorry for the elder werewolf with such a rough life.

Being bitten at such a young age and being feared by many for so long. Having no real friends until Hogwarts and even after having them turn purposely into animals to assist his transformations at full moons – they each took different paths and almost, not intentionally, left him behind.

And now Harry Potter had gone – the only real true link that Remus had to his old friends. And Ginny felt, as she made her way through the opened meadow hills towards the Burrow, their talk was some sort of progress in a friendship she would hope would bring some enjoyment to the aged werewolf – and of course herself.

-

Harry had watched her go and could hardly stand it anymore. She was still growing and looking more beautiful with every day that passed. He was letting time slip away – a time that should be of enjoyment not disclosure and it was something he would continue to miss if he didn't do something about it.

When Remus brought up lunch some time later; Harry was still looking outside.

'As I told you before Harry,' he said, putting the tray over his lap, 'the longer you leave it…'

'The worse it will become,' Harry finished, nodding and practically thrusting the roll in his mouth.

'Well…?' Remus asked, 'she does miss you Harry, I can see it in her body language. She would hate you to keep doing this to yourself. Tell her. At least tell her. And from there you can work from that to Ron and Hermione and soon to the rest of them.'

Harry swallowed and sighed. 'I need more time.'

Remus frowned and looked out the sun filled window.

'Harry as I am neither your parent nor guardian I cannot tell you what to do,' said Remus, placing the tray on the bedside table. 'But you have to remember who else this is hurting – all the people you are deceiving. Ginny especially; you need to tell her.'

'But Remus I'm not sure that-'

'Just her.' He said. 'You definitely owe yourself that.'

Remus nodded and left to let Harry ponder his thoughts.

-

Ginny's afternoon was uneventful. She didn't bother to stop by home for a bite to eat, instead settled under a tree and entranced herself longingly with the latest of Remus' book. It was quite an in dept explanation of the steps towards becoming an Animagus, all the hours of long gruelling mind control and the sacrifices needed to become one. Ginny could see why Remus meant it was a difficult, yet very useful thing to become.

It had a list of every single Animagus on record; Ginny had some fun trailing her finger along the thousands of names throughout the centuries trying to pronounce the more obscure ones. Minerva McGonagall was there "…successfully transformed into a grey tabby cat with recognisable loops under the eyes suggesting the transformation of glasses."

Ginny read on, her thoughts for the first time off Harry James Potter – the first time since he had split up with her at Albus Dumbledore's funeral some thirteen months ago. And apart from the fact she couldn't believe Harry had been on her mind for over a year, she continued, her eyes dashing back and forwards across the pages and with every word Harry seemed to be pushed back further. Almost as if she was getting over him in a way.

But reluctantly she knew she never would.

Yet as her mother called for her and Ginny responded by getting up from her place under the tree heading for home, Ginny still partially wanted to believe Harry was alive, even though it was highly unlikely now. She would give away anything and everything she owned in a heart beat if she came to know somewhere out there Harry Potter still breathed the same air that she did and was lurking in the shadows.

Perhaps he was wanting to return but restraining himself – fearing the world, not wanting to be exposed as a celebrity anymore. And she wanted to know the truth, the absolute truth of what had happened that night. As much as she didn't want to accept it, Ginny felt that after almost two months (the Death Eaters had been unable to remember any of it and had had their souls sucked out by the Dementors) Harry Potter was officially dead.

And it hurt.


	6. Chapter 6

06

The phrase "easier said than done" is defined as something that sounds easy when said but when you come to do it; it becomes a lot harder than you anticipated. For instance, you could make a bet with your friends and say you could easily juggle a set of knives blindfolded without getting harmed, or tell your mother you could manage to ward off a nest of hornets on your own without getting stung, or tell the police you had managed to murder five people twice the size of you completely alone with only a hand mirror and a typewriter.

Harry of course, would have rather been face with the challenge of juggling knives blindfolded, or to ward off a nest of angry hornets or to face the challenge of murdering five people, all quite larger than himself with only two insignificant objects. But the term "easier said than done" in this instance was that it was easier said than done to go up to someone you love and announce to them that your have been alive and well for many months despite being thought of as dead.

If you have ever found yourself in this predicament, which I highly doubt many of you have, you would know the thoughts that go through your head are both fearful and menacing. And as Harry thought long and hard through the night unable to sleep, tossing and turning under the covers and wearing up a cold sweat, Harry thought it as "easier said than done" to come up with a solution when he had never really been a problem solver himself.

Most of all the troubled situations he had ever gotten into, and I would like to add there have been quite a few, he would almost always rely on his friendship with Hermione Granger - as would Ron - to give him the answers he needed. He COULD go to her for help, but that was "easier said than done" as she too, like Ginny and the rest of the Wizarding world believe Harry to be dead – and even though he regretted everything now, there was really no easy way Harry could "spill the beans", a phrase which here means 'to explain in great detail about how he is still alive despite the fact people think he is dead.'

So as the night went past, and morning broke – Harry sat thinking and thinking blank thoughts, knowing all well that if he decided to come out with the truth that the next couple of weeks in his life will be the most stressful. Rather than weeping about it, he decided to head down to breakfast feeling rather tired, dry of ideas and carrying the burden that he had forced Remus into such a situation as lying.

'Morning,' was all either of them could manage and they ate in an agreeable silence that lasted until the plates were put in the sink.

'Harry I thought I'd better tell you I won't be home tonight.' Remus said, as they congregated into the lounge and Remus sat as his desk. 'I'm going out to… well I'm going out.'

'Oh?' Harry said rather surprised.

'Yes.' Remus said, and added with a cough. 'With Nymphadora.'

'Who?' Harry asked stupidly.

'Tonks.' Remus said firmly. 'Nymphadora Tonks.'

'Oh.' Harry said again, and then he realised. 'Oh!'

'Now I was presuming you could cook something for yourself and-'

'Is it a date?' Harry interrupted, unable to hold it.

Remus froze. 'I'm sorry?'

'Is it a date?' Harry repeated. 'With Tonks?'

Remus cleared his throat. 'No.' He said firmly. 'Definitely not-'

'Sounds like it.' Harry said with a smirk.

'Harry I assure you it's not like that.' Remus said, frowning and scratching his chin. 'We're just… catching up. Going over some things-'

'Yeah, OK.' Harry accepted, hiding a cheeky grin. 'I can cook for myself no problem. What times the date then?'

'Well she's coming at about eight and-' Remus turned red. 'It's not a DATE!'

'If you say so,' agreed Harry. He figured Remus was lying, but he'd rather stay on the good side of a werewolf as the full moon quietly approached.

'Let's just drop it.' Remus said and as he returned to his desk work, Harry set out to venture the sloping meadows of spring in old county England.

-

Sleep is essential in life. If one would not sleep, then there is a good chance you may end up dead, as sleep acts as a replenishing tool – and if none of us ever slept then the world would be a very much larger and complex place. And when the term "I can sleep when I am dead" comes up in conversation, often there are two ways looking at it – depending on that person.

Firstly, if they seem capable of walking in a straight line and stringing a sentence together that sense make, then they are most likely to be a rare case of managing life with very little sleep. Secondly, if they look rather tired then they are most definitely faking it; perhaps they go to such terrible lengths because they were anticipating on going to a fancy new restaurant, or highly rated Broadway film, or in one particular case, juggling two jobs on a low salary in order to put food on the table.

When Ginny Weasley said 'I can sleep when I am dead' to her parents in a funny haze early one morning, it was obvious Ginny would rather stay awake. Perhaps it was not to go to a new fancy restaurant, or to watch a Broadway film and most definitely not to juggle two jobs when she didn't even have one job and her father managed to cope with his.

It was more obvious to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that their daughter didn't want to see what she saw at night. Harry of course was still a vivid memory in her mind and she had woken up more than a few times in the night calling his name. She kept her door locked, so no one would come to her if they heard her crying – as much as they wanted to, she just wouldn't let them in.

'I can sleep when I am dead!' Ginny uttered, after her mother had feared she wasn't sleeping enough.

Molly sighed and watched her daughter leave and turned to her husband.

'Don't look at me Molly,' Arthur said.

'She needs help, Arthur.'

'Perhaps so. But I hate the thought of my only daughter ending up in therapy.' He sighed and put his plate in the sink. 'Let her think for a bit – perhaps she will come to us.'

Ginny left, without a thought of what she was enforcing or without a thought of where she was going. She shot outside and out the gate into the morning, leaving behind a sleepless night and hoping she could regenerate energy by mellowing in the awesome fields. Her mind was rattled; weeks had passed since she had told herself she needed to get over it. But her mind had never really caught up with the idea. And perhaps in this instance, it was easier said than done.

-

Harry felt slightly bemused when Tonks arrived at the lodge for her so called "non-date" she had with Remus, wearing a stunning red dress and walking awkwardly in high-heels and covered in heavy make-up. Harry had stayed out of sight of course and watched them go; it seemed far from a simple catch up. She was giggling as they held hands and she was leaning in pretty close – almost as if she had had too many Butterbeers already. Harry knew that when Remus glanced backwards he had hoped Harry wasn't watching – but he (Harry) made a mental note to bring it up over breakfast the next morning.

As Harry waited for the fish he had bought earlier in the day for dinner to cook through, he strolled around the Lodge taking an in depth look at some of Remus' belongings. There were not a lot of things of interest, but Remus had only one thing of value in his eyes – his books. And as much as he said about not minding Ginny going through them, Harry had seen the werewolf scan through his precious books for any sign of damage once Ginny had returned them and gone.

Harry really hadn't taken notice before but, it really was quite a large collection. Ranging from "Advance Angry Aardvarks to Zany Zebras" and Harry found it difficult to wonder how Ginny would ever go through all of these in one schooling year – when there were book titles with names like "Variegated patchwork" that he didn't begin to understand.

"Variegated patchwork" could mean many things, but in this instance the book labelled "Variegated patchwork" consisted of ninety eight pages of quilt and doona patterns made with various colours and designs from thirty three perfectionists all earning a living in this one book. It has very little to do with Magic and Remus only owned it because his mother had given it to him when he was a child.

Harry turned his focus away from the books and instead of the delicious smell coming from the oven and returned to his fish cooked to perfection. It was even tastier with the addition of some mixed vegetables and pasta, and he was impressed himself of how delicious it tasted and melted in his mouth.

When he had finished his meal and sat in a dull eerie silence at the table of the lodge, feeling quite abundantly full and having no desire for desserts – which suited because he hadn't thought of making any. So after a quick swift of Remus' old wand, the dishes were done and the place sparkled so Harry went on another of his late sombre walks through the country.

He had to admit, his walks were becoming repetitive with each step he took, no matter what change of direction he made. The meadows around the lodge were completely alike, where every tree, every scrub and every unearthed logged looked exactly the same as its predecessor – and the one that was to follow. Perhaps it was the reoccurrence of spotting Ginny on his merry walks, whether it be her red hair streaking behind her she went through the fields, or frown and the tears upon her face as she sat secluded at her bedroom window peering into either the day or night sky – she was definitely the reason he left the lodge.

He didn't see her that night though.

The thought of seeing Ginny again made him want to head eastwards to the Burrow, but instead he took a sharp turn and went north, more towards London. He didn't go that far, ten minute walk perhaps – stopping at a muddy creek run down with garbage tossed in by muggles flying past in their motor cars on the highway. He took one sniff of the putrid smell and turned on his heels.

When he returned to the lodge some time later, it looked just as he had left it, of course he wasn't expecting Remus home for hours as he was on – what had seemed – quite a successful non-date. A slow, broad smirk appeared on Harry's face at the many ideas and lines he could use when the elder man arrived home, blushing an ugly pink as Harry stood at the doorway grinning.

But as it ticked after midnight, and as Harry lifted the covers of his bed so he could slip under them willingly in a need of comfort – he thought perhaps he shouldn't torment the werewolf in the morning. Since Remus had had to put up with so "much" of Harry's nonsense – over the weeks and months gone by, there really was only one way he could think of which to pay back the elder mans dept.

But as Harry lay there, he thought of it to be "easier said than done" in so many ways – each more unlikely to accomplish than the last. He knew deep inside himself it was there – ready to pounce out and strike in an instant; needing it, wanting it, taking it. Taking it until every last shred of insecurity had been released and the burden left on his shoulders would raise high above the clouds into non-existence.

And that burden - was to speak to Ginny Weasley.


	7. Chapter 7

07

The air turned from a warm autumn breeze, to a brisk cold whip as time entered December and Christmas drew ever closer – Ginny watched from her position at the window as the Weasley's living room underwent a makeover by Molly, Ron and Hermione and in one afternoon suddenly turned into a large decoration that reminded Ginny strongly of Hogwarts. So strongly that she almost missed the place, missed spending Christmas mornings there – the excitement of sharing presents with her friends was far more exhilarating than with her family where she almost always get second hand items.

Harry would always get her something nice and overly expensive, which she always felt guilty about; perhaps even more so now. She always got him a present of course, but they were all cheap, hand made or down right ugly – and when she had compared them he would merely laughed it off and hug her, issuing a "Merry Christmas" before heading off with Ron and Hermione.

The decorations inside, the snowy slopes outside – it all reminded Ginny of Hogwarts and of her friends; but evidently she had chosen correspondence, and with all the commotion around her doing that, she supposed it was best to stick by her choice and go with the flow – so she did. And with Harry… well she just read her books; figured reading was her only escape from reality - which was Christmas, can never be the same without Harry.

-

Harry woke suddenly. The dull rays of light well and truly poured into the room and Harry felt foolish to have slept in. Downstairs he could hear distant movement which he undoubtedly figured was Remus making or cleaning up breakfast. With a yawn and a stretch and a sudden urge to mock the elder werewolves date, Harry proceeded downstairs and was about to have himself heard when he froze at the doorframe.

Indeed, breakfast was being made. But not, as Harry had expected, by Remus Lupin. His face turned up into a wry frown as he saw the slim figure and long legs of a woman rushing around with pots and pans and bubblegum pink hair.

'Remus?'

Harry did some quick thinking and dodged out of the way, just as Tonks looked towards the doorframe. She gave an odd frown and continued what she was doing. Harry grinned again and eventually made his way upstairs – it appeared Remus had a bit more explaining to do than at first thought.

Harry lay back to bed thinking he may of well as just slept in longer anyway, and although he didn't drop off back to sleep, he could hear the calm complacent sounds of the not so comforting cold winds and the trudge of snow against the window frame. He heard voices drifting lightly up through the floorboards and could hear when Tonks left saying goodbye to Remus.

He watched her go through the window, disappearing a couple hundred yards along against the white snow. Harry gave Remus a minute to think before he headed down to find the elder man sitting awkwardly at the table with dirty plates scattered around.

He looked up with beady red eyes.

'Don't you say a word!' Remus sneered, rubbing his temple.

'Oh but I intend to-'

'Harry…' Remus said as calmly as he could. 'Not a word.'

Harry was unable to control himself as he grinned from ear to ear.

'Come on.' He said, taking a seat opposite the ageing werewolf. 'I want to know – what happened.'

Remus stared blankly at him.

'You don't need to know.' Remus sounded confident.

'Oh I do.' Harry said, smiling abroad. 'I want to know, every minor and miniscule detail.'

Remus sighed deeply and thought he may as well give in.

'It turned into something more than I anticipated, OK?' Remus said. He got up from the table and leant over the sink. 'She was persistent – I tried to brush her off but…'

'But something got the better of you?' Harry asked hopefully, trying not to sound overly enthusiastic and to have the werewolf stop in his tracks. 'Something, animalistic?'

Remus groaned as he slid down the cabinets onto the chromatic tiled floor and put his head in his hands.

'I couldn't help myself.' Remus went on. 'Some things they say about werewolves and…- look I am not quite sure if I can be comfortable talking about my private matters with you.'

'Were adults here.' Harry said calmly. 'I know what you mean when it's hard to turn down woman. I use to do it on a daily basis. Card mail mainly, wanting to marry me and meet me – all of that.'

'But I fear I've committed myself to something that may have ruined a poor young girl's life.' Remus said. 'Oh god what am I going to do?'

'Wait.' Harry said.

Remus looked up to him. 'I'm sure I heard Hermione say something about werewolves managing to live a normal life. Have a wife or girlfriend and family-'

'Those cases are rare, Harry.' Remus said insecurely. 'Most times they don't know about their husband's condition – and believe his monthly illness comes from allergies.'

'Well what about those who have known?' Harry said, trying to sound confident. 'How did they work out?'

'I heard stories. They got too close – and got eaten.' Remus said it so easily but Harry shed a shudder.

'Well you know – I think you should go for it.' Harry said, grinning.

He made his way over to a small pile of pancakes and, although they were cold, piled them on and added syrup.

'Tonks is smart. She obviously likes you.' Harry stuffed a pancake in his mouth. 'Whi nop gife it er twy.'

'What?' Remus spat.

Harry swallowed. 'Why not give it a try?'

Remus shook his head and Harry put the plate down.

'Could be the best decision of your life.' Harry added, forking another cold pancake in his mouth.

Remus stayed quite and went over to sit at his desk.

'Well think it over…' Harry suggested, shrugging. 'I'm off for a walk.'

Remus looked up. 'In this whether? It's snowing-'

'I am quite capable.' Harry said, as he slouched a jacket over his shoulders.

'Be back in a bit.'

-

Harry watched from a far - wrapped up in an extremely large winter jacket – as the Burrow turned from an ugly frosted house, to a colourful, Christmassy house, still leaning abnormally to one side and most obviously, held up by magic. Ginny had not participated, but had instead taken the initiative that Harry had, and sat back and watched.

Had Harry not excelled in charms, and been unable to cast a perfect invisibility spell over himself – he would have been spotted. Ginny looked out the window in his direction on countless occasions, looking positively bored and uninterested. Her head buried in her book mostly, unless a loud enough sound caught her attention, or if she would get to an interesting part of the book and look out through the window trying to picture it.

Eventually, after several hours passed, Harry had had enough and – waiting to make sure Ginny was looking away – got up and promptly left as hurriedly as he could. He found Remus at his desk, as normal, writing long loopy words as scribbly as he could and looking up as Harry approached him.

'I've thought about what you said.' He said instantly.

'OK.' Harry replied, nodding.

'I'll level with you.'

A sly grin appeared slowly on his ageing face as he placed the quill on his desk and crossed his hand. 'I'll re-consider some sort of relationship with Tonks-'

'Right.' Harry nodded.

'If you tell Ginny Weasley you're alive.'


	8. Chapter 8

08

Ginny actually found herself, amazingly enough, trudging through the overgrown crowds of Diagon Alley searching for Christmas presents. Her mother had suggested they go this early, to beat the crowds – but it seemed everyone else had thought to do the same. Moving was almost impossible; Ginny's foot kept being trodden on and, annoyingly – right in the same place. And as every shop was overgrown and impenetrable, she took to looking through the many windows of many displays.

Everything was too damned expensive; anything Ginny came across that she would even remotely consider purchasing – was too expensive. The book shop, Flourish and Blotts were usually cheap, but a recently released book was double the price of the other book shop down the road. But she was discouraged to find "Obscurus Books" had been shut down due to management problems.

She only barely, on her tippy-toes, got a brief glance inside the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies and scowled at the price of the newest racing broom on the market. She had to wonder for a moment why she had made her way towards the Apothecary when she had no intention of buying potions ingredients; but it was next door to the Junk Shop which was practically empty so she gave it a try. The place was always filled with broken and unusable objects. It was a rarity to find anything useful, so Ginny left as quickly as possible after the dark look the shop owner gave her. Down a bit was the "Magical Menagerie" and she had no interest in going there, so eventually, one shop was left.

Just one – and she was sure she would be able to gain access to it.

Indeed, despite number ninety-six being the most overly packed shop in Diagon Alley, Ginny somehow managed to pass through the crowd and go through the front door, where she found one of her brothers racing around attending to customers. She head out the back and found her brothers twin looking for a product that was in overstock. It was George (at least she thought it was), he smiled at her and indicated he had to serve the customer – so she nodded and he went. A moment passed, she looked around at some of the newer products that had been added since last time she was here – mostly there were boxes, but there were a few display stands as well.

George returned, or was it Fred? She really had no idea; she knew she should, but along with the distinct likeness, matching uniforms and equal grins – she hardly ever saw them anymore and could not tell them apart. She could however, detect the difference in their voices.

'So are you here alone?' asked George; he looked thankful to see her, perhaps a break in the intense workload nearing Christmas.

'No.' Ginny replied. 'Mum went off to search for presents for everyone and left me with Ron and Hermione. They are somewhere in the street, I left them because I didn't exactly want to spend the afternoon watching them devour each others tongue.'

George laughed.

'So yeah I'm in here alone.' Ginny finished.

'Well.' George said, beaming. I'm glad to see your decision for Christmas shopping is here – for all your funny bone needs.'

'Well to be truthful,' Ginny said, 'everywhere else was either too boring, too expensive or too crap.'

A smile ran away from George's face and was replaced with a confused frown.

'Well… still.' George said. 'Is there something I can do for you then?'

Ginny smiled to that the best of her abilities.'Forgive me brother, I do not find Christmas this year as to be something to joke about. I hope you understand.'

'Oh yes, of course.' George frowned. 'But-'

'George.'

She gave him a look and he silently agreed.

'Well so then what is the reason of your visit?' He asked.

Ginny laughed. 'Can't a sister come and say hello to her very bright, very intelligent and very successful brothers without being asked questions?'

'Of course not.' George hugged her. 'But Fred and I are hardly intelligent.'

'Hmm… well.' Ginny knew it was a debate she would not be able to win.

'Shall I get him?' George queried, he of course meant Fred.

'No. It's fine.' Ginny sighed. 'I just wanted to say hi. You should get back to work. And I should get back to shopping- well… just say hi to him for me would you?'

George nodded and, opened his mouth to reply; but instead watched Ginny disappear back into the growth of the shop and hear the rattle of the door open as she departed. George could do nothing more than to sigh and return to work, thinking along the lines of what Ginny had a few days ago – that Christmas will, inevitably, never be the same as it once was.

-

Harry watched the days pass by, and wondered, silently, why on earth he has done this – not just to himself but to those once in his life who try to live on despite their angst. Christmas was approaching so rapidly, and Harry so wanted to expose his secrets before then – but he just kept coming up with the lamest of excuses for himself; just the other day he said to himself the Weasley's would just be sitting down to dinner and he shouldn't be walking in at such a busy time.

There were worse ones.

About three weeks ago he had thought out, very stupidly, to barge through the gates of the Burrow and see them – he actually left the lodge, beam lined for the Burrow and just when he looked like going through with it, tripped over a log "accidentally" going up a hill. He had the smallest of scratches on his knee, he took it as an excuse to get medical treatment and ran with it – literally he ran all the way back to the lodge before he realised what an idiot he'd just been.

It only got worse. But I dare not tell you what other thoughts went through his head, for I simply cannot re-tell the sheer stupidity that is running through Harry James Potter right now. I do not blame those who have given up on this story, or walked away from it after all its prolonged repetition. All I can say to you is, keep reading – because while Remus Lupin was alive, Harry has a chance.

Remus was at his desk when Harry came downstairs the morning after another one of their feuds, and another day closer to the twenty fifth of December. The house was utterly freezing; Harry had on two undershirts, a long sleeves shirt, two jumpers (one woollen the other a zip up), thin leg warmers, a pair of thick jeans and a beanie – yet he still felt cold. Remus had a loose shirt and track suit pants on, but he looked positively beaming.

'My god, aren't you cold?' Harry asked when he sat down on the small couch beside the heater; which wasn't on. 'Why the hell isn't this... ahh there- what are you doing?'

Remus sighed. 'Writing.'

'Yeah, writing what?' Harry asked intrusively.

'Letters, words… sentences.' Remus replied coolly.

'Er… OK. About what?'

'Never mind; it's personal.' Remus coughed.

'Oh…?' Remus did not like the way Harry was smiling at him. 'Tell me more.'

'Go and bother someone else.' Remus snapped rudely.

'No one else knows I exist-'

'Well lucky me.'

Harry detected the sarcasm immediately.

'Come now.' Harry said. 'Tis the season to be jolly!'

Remus stopped writing suddenly and turned to Harry with a look of upmost unbelief.

'What?' He snarled. 'Jolly? Are you mad? Try saying that to Ginny Weasley right now or anyone else who loved you for that matter – I doubt you'd get a straight faced answer back when they realise who is saying it.'

'Loves.' Harry corrected.

Remus cocked an eyebrow.

'Well you said "loved".' Harry pointed out. 'That's the past tense. I'm not dead, so – "loves" is the correct word.'

Remus started at him.

'Well it is.'

Again Remus sighed. 'Harry. This has gone on for long enough, surely-'

'What has?'

'Surely you need to make a decision.' Remus went on, ignoring Harry's ongoing idiotic questions. 'And you need to make it now. Or I will.'

Harry frowned. 'Decision?'

'It's Christmas.' Remus explained. 'And it's bad enough to have one sad person around here at Christmas.

'And yes I mean me.' Remus continued. 'It's bad enough that I have to spend Christmas alone, as fate would have it for a werewolf. But you- I do not see, living a life as a lie your fate.'

'Remus what-'

'Harry please just use that brain of yours for once.'

Harry looked utterly confused.

'Oh do I really have to repeat myself?' Remus said in frustration.

'I think it's pretty obvious that you DO.' Harry said.

'Alright, you see this.' Remus held up the piece of paper he had been writing on. 'It's a letter to Nymphadora.'

'Oh…' Harry started at for a second, then, 'OH!'

'Yes, oh.' Remus sighed and began to wonder what Harry's head had hit for him to be this utterly stupid. 'Now you see... I have taken the initiative to show her that I am at least mildly interested in a relationship. While you- you have done absolutely nothing in correcting the predicament you seem to have managed to get yourself in.'

Harry stared.

'You –do- want to fix it don't you?' Remus asked. 'You DON'T want to spend the New Year alone do you?'

'No but-'

'Then take the initiative.' Remus handed Harry his quill and a piece of parchment. 'Because if I really consider thinks with Tonks, she'll need a room where its safe away from my transformations; and you, Harry – will be hanging out to dry.'

-

Ginny managed to purchase one book for the entire time she was out shopping today; it wasn't even a Christmas present for her or for someone else. She had found the book on special in the back section of Flourish and Blotts after meeting up with her mother, and had not given a second thought about not purchasing it. And although it helped her in no way shape of form education wise – she supposed it was another distraction from reality.

"Twisting, Turning, Time Turning Time Travel" was the books title, and basically it gave an in depth description of the Time Turners history – and mistakes Wizards and Witches have made in altering time. As already mentioned, it didn't help her with her correspondence – but she was interested to find out how a man from Hampshire had managed to go back in time and changed something so dramatic that it lead to his arrest and eventual death of suicide in Azkaban.

She supposed she should have tried harder at getting presents for people, but she had been excused by her mother and told not to worry about it. So she didn't – and instead laid on her bed with her arms out in front of her, only barely erecting her book to read as the afternoon sun was engulfed by a sea of clouds. Ginny shivered and put the book away before curling into a warm jumper and watching the rain make its way from afar to pass over them.

By evening it was pouring. Ginny could barely hear herself think, which she supposed was a gift from the heavens. Hermione came into her room at about six and informed her - rather loudly over the noise - that dinner was almost ready and she was to help prepare the table. Ginny nodded but didn't descend the stairs until a good ten minutes later after the table had been set; nothing was said.

The only conversation that occurred was when the rain stopped and everyone could be heard. By that time, thankfully, Ginny had consumed enough of her helpings and excused herself from the table and returning to her room. She was too tired to read, or to sit up late to ponder thoughts she did not want to ponder. Instead, she took a quick glance out at the cold, wet and darkened landscape before crawling beneath her covers into a small ball and sleeping through the remainder of the night.

Tomorrow would be Friday the fourteenth of December, another day closer to Christmas – and still Ginny felt as empty as ever.


	9. Chapter 9

09

Ginny would have liked to have slept in the next morning, as it was so far beyond cold that not only was she shivering under her covers; but she was also shivering in her dreams. She got out of bed at around five past seven, her arms crossed and teeth chattering; she wouldn't have been surprised if she froze to the spot halfway between her bed and her closet. But she managed to reach it, and threw on abnormal amounts of clothing that weighed her down but thankfully – kept her warm.

She had returned to her bed with around seven layers of clothing on, gotten under the covers and kept herself as enclosed as possible when there was a knock on her door. She cussed, firstly because this would delay her sleeping in – and secondly because someone was actually up and about so early in the god damn morning.

'Ginny?' Her mother called out.

For a second, Ginny contemplated not answering – but figured she would hear about it later eventually so she thought she may as well.

'Awake.' She said softly.

'And decent?' Molly called.

'Yes!' Ginny replied hotly but really, who in their right mind would be up out of bed at seven in the morning - at minus seven degrees celsius - naked?

Molly burst in looking positively joyful. She didn't look remotely cold; in fact she looked quite the opposite. Her face was positively beaming, and she had very little amount of layers on; not nearly as many as Ginny – and suddenly she wanted in on the secret.

'Ginerva dear, great news!' Molly exclaimed; and immediately Ginny was suspicious.

Very rarely her mother would use her real name; and if she did, it was never to announce great news. "Ginny" was usually used when announcing great news – "Ginerva" was something more commonly renown for escaping Molly's mouth when Ginny had gotten into some sort of trouble; or Molly was just plain angry at something (happened a lot back in the early days when Fred & George would play tricks on Ginny).

'What?' Ginny spat.

But Molly didn't answer.

She didn't need too; behind her Ginny's youngest brother Ron entered the room, positively beaming – and he was followed closely by Hermione, who was sharing an equal grin.

'Ginny.' Ron said, nodding.

Ginny sat up in her bed and raised an eyebrow, looking from each of their grinning faces to the next.

'Well spill it.' She spat stupidly, thinking she could be sleeping instead.

Ron took a deep breath, nodded at Hermione (who nodded back) and took a step forward, staring down at Ginny with a grimace.

'Ginny, Hermione and I…' Ron took another immense breath. 'Hermione and I are engaged.'

-

Harry rapped hi fingernails against the top of his desk as he stared blankly down at the bit of parchment that sat perpendicularly towards him on the wooden finish. He was slightly frustrated that it was still in the same state it had been in when Remus had handed it to him earlier on; and that was that it was still completely blank. The hours had slowly passed, Harry had sat and watched his room grow increasingly darker until it had come to the point where he needed to cross his room and turn the light on so he could see the parchment.

Of course he immediately regretted this because once again he was reminded of the fact that he had still not written down one insignificant letter of any language, let alone that of a required amount to form a logical sentence in the more preferred English language. And really, nothing formed properly in Harry's brain all night, except however for the eventual thudding of downpour outside and the rattling of his window caused by the increase of wind.

He eventually became so sick of staring at a blank parchment that he got up and left it – venturing downstairs to a different looking Remus who was racing across his parchment with enthusiasm, much like the writer of this story is now desperate to write out all the information that has been lost by the stupid and useless advanced technology we all call "laptops" that are meant to be so helpful and user friendly and near on impossible to crash.

DAMN YOU MICROSOFT. Anyway…

Neither Remus nor Harry bothered to notice the other and were seemingly oblivious to each others presence. Harry raided the fridge upon response to his growling stomach, while Remus turned over his parchment and continued on writing.

A few good minutes passed by; Harry managed to find some left over chicken from last week. He cared not for expiry dates and continued on chewing as Remus slowed his writing to a gentle loop and came to an eventual cease with a significant full stop. He placed his quill triumphantly onto his desk, leant back in his chair and as you might have guessed it, looked over at Harry and evidently broke the eerie silence.

'You're going to spoil dinner,' Remus said, as Harry gnawed away.

Harry then swallowed rather sharply. 'I wasn't aware there was going to be a dinner; hence my actions.'

Remus cocked an eyebrow. 'Well there might not have to be the way you're going. How's that letter coming along then, eh?'

'Fine.' Harry lied; unluckily for him, Remus could sense immediately the poor attempt at Occulemency.

'Harry…' Remus started.

'Remus…' Harry mocked in return.

'You are testing my patience.' Remus said hotly. 'It's wearing quite thin you know; I really do want you to write her that letter – or see that you go to her and tell her everything.'

Harry sighed. 'Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I want to, too?'

'Then-?'

'It's not that simple, Remus,' Harry threw his chicken bone down in detest. 'I – I wouldn't know… I –don't- know what to write to her or what to say to her.'

Remus frowned, and Harry frowned back.

'But Harry; the longer you leave this…' Remus began.

'Oh come on not this nonsense again,' spat Harry. 'OK, I understand – the longer I leave things the harder it will be for me, for her to understand – for anything to remotely start happening between us.

'I get it Remus.' Harry continued. 'I quite frankly do not need any more pressure from you than I already have.'

Remus opened his mouth to reply but shut it again.

'I will tell her when I tell her.' Harry said. 'It's as simple as that; I will know when the time is right, only I can – so goodnight Remus.'

Remus blinked.

'Harry I-'

'Goodnight!'

Another blink of the eye and Harry was gone, up the staircase and into his room. Remus winced slightly as Harry's door was slammed firmly shut and by the sound of it – nearly off its hinges.

Remus sighed and thought of it as just yet another excuse for Harry to buy more time, some more time to hold off the remainder of his life – and more time away from what reality was waiting for him (a good kick up the bumb).

But as Remus cleared away Harry's plates, that was all he thought of it; another of Harry's buy-more-time schemes – but little did ol' Remus know that it would in fact be the last time he would ever have a disagreement, last time he'll have an argument… it would be the last time he would have to put up with another excuse from Harry James Potter.

-

Ginny sat seclusively in her bedroom, watching from above as family members and some friends began arriving at the news of the engagement. Some she knew, some she thought she knew and some, she just didn't give a stuff about. It was well and truly dark when she heard the distant sounds of a party starting – as well as the wafting aroma of delicious food ascending through the floorboards. She ignored the rumblings of her stomach and took to staring into the night.

The moon was half-full so she was at least able to smile swiftly at the thought that Remus Lupin wouldn't be out in the cold tonight – and as her mind trailed over Remus she once again thought of going to see him. Several times during the past weeks she had contemplated going there indefinitely because there was less pressure there with easier surroundings, each time she had looked to have made her decision – something pulled her back. And she would find herself back at the Burrow and stuck with the inevitability of doing nothing at all every day.

In a sense she rather it that way; hence her current position, barricaded in her room as her brother's engagement party moves into full swing. She was however – at one point – distracted with a knock at her door.

'Ginny?'

It was Hermione; of course.

'Family are here, would really love to see you.'

Ginny stared at the door but said nothing, did nothing else. Eventually Hermione's footsteps echoed away leaving Ginny at peace once more, and able to look back out into the black sky with a sigh. It was not like she disagreed with the engagement; not at all – hell she was entirely for it.

When she had been told earlier about the engagement, she herself felt her spirits lifted dramatically and it made her the happiest she had felt in weeks, if not months. And the only reason she was not downstairs now, sculling Butterbeers and singing "Should all acquaintance, be forgot" with a slowly growing hoarse throat like the rest of them; was because she could not.

She felt an omen upon her shoulders had not yet been released; it was if apart of her had forgotten reality, and created it's own. Or rather like a computers hard drive, crashed from a seeming amount of viruses – going along in existence with not much purpose until you come to format it and re-install the operating system of your choice with a clean slate and starting all over again.

This was what Ginny wanted; she wanted to be wiped clean of her memory and restarted – so her life in existence could once again be as happy as those downstairs were now – she wanted to be herself again.


	10. Chapter 10

10

Harry paced his room so many times that night that he literally lost count and was beginning to make a formidable groove in the carpet. He had gotten sick of staring at blank parchment so he shoved that away and had begun thinking as thoroughly as possible of what he should do next. He wanted to stick by his word that he had had enough of Remus' advice, and that he did not need to stay where he was any longer – but then the trouble with that was he has absolutely no where else to go. This made him sit down on the edge of his bed and stare at the wall feeling useless and blank.

Privet Drive was both a ridiculous thought and completely out of the question – Godric Hollow now hardly saw a single standing house after the war and other than the Burrow (which was where he wanted to be most of all) there was only Grimmauld Place left available on the probability list. And instantly, Harry's mind clicked and he felt almost foolish to have forgotten the House of Black – as it was the perfect place for him to go because if he remembered correctly, Remus had said to him upon arriving at the lodge that it was completely deserted…

'…as you could imagine, the Ministry have been searching high and low for any surviving Death Eaters left behind in the chaos,' Remus had said that evening, careful to point out that Draco Malfoy was upon the list of names uncaptured. 'Basically the Ministry are searching anywhere that has the slightest hint of Magical presence about it – so naturally Grimmauld place was on the list. And seeming as no one had set foot there since us in the order abandoned it; the Ministry turned the place upside down and ultimately found nothing at all – except for a large stash of forgotten items, most likely kept by Kreacher after we cleaned the place out. Anyway, they labelled it as deserted and promptly let it sit to decay and rot away…'

So from that, Harry could guess that it still remained that way, and that it was perhaps safe enough to spend some time concealed away from everyone and everything and from the on-going pressure he received from the aging werewolf that patrolled downstairs. And he would be free, free to release everything bottled up inside his head and perhaps start again in search of getting his life back.

It really felt to Harry like to most appropriate idea to him, of course the rest of us may have thought he'd be better off going to the Burrow so this story could damn well finish – but alas my children it appeared to not be so and Harry proceeded to pack his bags and feel correct with this decision. But as he glanced outside, into the darkness of the night he realised it to be a foolish act to journey giving the current state of things.

With surrounding darkness, cold temperatures, strong wings, the inability to apperate and the want not to use magic – Harry thought it to be wise not to fly away tonight, that perhaps he could leave his antics to the morning. After all, it is always thought as a good idea to sleep on our decisions, that it might become less attractive come the morning and hence prevent ourselves from performing devastating actions that may ruin our own lives and possibly, someone else's.

So Harry climbed into his bed instead, figuring he may as well sleep on it and decide in the morning – whether if it was indeed the correct decision or not.

-

Ginny placed her seemingly light and empty trunk onto the curve of the street she now stood in, glaring ominously at the empty space between numbers eleven and thirteen. And as she stood there, her mind continued to be unsure why on earth her gut would have thought to lead her here of all places. She had left the Burrow purposely in search of getting her life back, to clear her mind and start all over so she could forget about her past that still remains to haunt her.

All of last night she had contemplated any sort of coincidences that might occur from her actions – as all the while the party continued downstairs on the announcement of Ron and Hermione's engagement, quite oblivious to what was unfolding some floors above them.

Ginny had travelled by broom, snatching her brother's pride and joy Cleensweep at the last minutes and flying out of the window just as time ticked past two in the morning. She had first thought of heading to Remus' Lodge surprisingly – as she knew Remus to be kind enough to help her out. But something drew her away from the lodge, far away in fact – very far north toward a place which she never thought of ending up in.

It was almost seven in the morning and the sun had just began to rear its head from the horizon - Ginny knew it would be of a suspicious scene if someone in Grimmauld Place were to wake now, peer out their window and see Ginny standing there with her trunk at her side and staring at a blank space between numbers eleven and thirteen. So she closed her eyes and focused on what she needed.

A clipping that was showed to her and her family the night Remus returned from the final order meeting, after they abandoned the house of black as their headquarters now it ceased to have any purpose but exist. It was almost seven months ago now but she remembered she knew it involved words spoken at that meeting; about a fallen member of the order – a special member, whose life had been taken, so peace could be restored.

Of course she knew it once it came back; she had repeated it over and over again in her head the night Remus had reluctantly showed her. And with those words in her head, the remembrance of them made her say it out to herself in a whisper.

"The Burning Phoenix has fallen, so that the rest of us may live; in peace."

Suddenly a loud cracking noise echoed throughout the street, and Ginny opened her eyes to find herself starting at the old and dark house that suddenly appeared between eleven and thirteen; looking as dilapidated as she felt. Quickly, she grabbed her trunk and made her way up the stone steps. A few quick glances up and down the street ensured for her it was safe to wrench open the door and slip into the darkened hallway.

As sad as it may be for me to write this, I ensure you there was no welcoming greet from Harry James Potter – nor were there the sign of an awaiting group of Death Eaters to take her in and held her captive. Alas it was just a dull, eerie, black and cold hallway – and it looked as empty and as grim as the last time she was here. Well… OK – perhaps a bit dustier and dirtier, but basically everything was in its rightful place.

Once over the threshold Ginny shut the door and was instantly engulfed in absolute blackness. She had to dip into her pockets for her wand, in which she uttered the word "lumos" and lit up the hall. She placed her trunk at the foot of the stairs, and after passing the doorstep in which Tonks was accustom to tripping over on every arrival – proceeded down to the kitchen.

A small window near the ceiling ensured dull light from the morning sun filled the kitchen, so Ginny put her wand away and made for the cupboard. Regrettably – yet not surprisingly – it was empty, and she always avoided summoning food if she could avoid it, so after making a mental note to do some sort of shopping later on she went back up into the hall way and began to head upstairs.

She struggled partly with her trunk as she went up, as it appeared the spell she had put on it prior to leaving the Burrow – which had made it considerably light in weight so as to now drag her broom down – was beginning to wear off. She made it to the second landing though, which is where the room she intended to stay in was located. She continued up though, without her trunk in the interest of searching the rooms for anything useful or any sign of life; every room was empty except one.

The master bedroom on the top floor seemed impenetrable; the door was locked and even with the most complex of unlocking spells Ginny could not manage to open it leaving it firmly remained shut. She shrugged this off though, and on the basis of her being unable to unlock it – she figured nothing could get in anyway.

She went back downstairs and began to unpack, at which point her stomach rumbled and a smile ran over her face. She realised now would be around the time her mother would just be discovering the slightly ajar door leading into an empty bedroom back at the Burrow – and although she hoped her mother wouldn't freak out, she at least hoped they know she had gone.

With the thought of food, Ginny finished her unpacking and hereby left Grimmauld Place in search of breakfast and supplies that she may need for her more than prolonged stay at number twelve.

-

'Ginny's gone?'

Molly was staring into space and was on the verge of tears, Hermione had an arm around her future mother-in-law while Ron paced the kitchen and Arthur stood staring out the window.

'Do you think, it's because we announced this?' Ron asked, continuing to pace. 'I think it is you know – our engagement. Affect her somewhat – everything always has to be about her. For once I get some sort of spotlight, and then she runs away? God that is so like her!'

'Ronald!' Hermione exclaimed.

Ron turned to his fiancée. 'What?'

Hermione glared at him.

'Well it is!' He insisted.

'I'm not sure that is the reason.' Arthur said, glaring over the meadows in which Ginny should have currently been running across. 'She's still so depressed from… well, was there anything overly suspicious about the way she acted yesterday?'

'She was fine when we told her about the engagement in the morning.' Hermione said. 'Ecstatic even.'

'Then she was in her room all day.' Molly said, continuing to stare. 'Now she's gone – just gone.'

'And there's no note.' Ron added.

'Oh my god,' Molly said. 'I sent out that letter about the engagement. To everyone! What'll we do, I am not sure I can face anyone with the prospect of my daughter missing…'

'I'll contact some people at the Ministry, dear,' said Arthur. 'See if we can't get a search party of some sort happening.'

'But for all we know, she could have apperated to Australia,' Hermione said. 'I vote we should wait – see if she doesn't just turn around and come back.'

'No!' Molly shrieked. 'I can't bare the thought of her alone, out there!'

'She's more than capable of defending herself,' Ron said. 'I know first hand having been on the receiving end of several of her curses.'

Arthur turned and nodded. 'Ginny has definitely proven herself to be a formidable force in the past – and I have no doubt she is intelligent enough to protect herself. Having SAID that I still believe it to be best if a search party is constructed right away.

'In the mean time,' Arthur continued, 'send out as many owls as you can to reliable contacts, to look out for Ginny if she happens to be passing by. Molly – any and every family member you know will have to put off their visit until Ginny is found.'

Molly nodded.

'And you?' Ron asked.

'I'd best be leading that search party.' Arthur said firmly, putting on his hat and picking up his suitcase. 'In case my daughter needs me.'

With that and a powerful swift of his cloak, Arthur vanished – leaving his wife and the newly engaged couple to ponder in their thoughts.


	11. Chapter 11

11

Harry woke that morning with a grown and came to realise there was something giving him a sheer hard jab right in the middle of the back, and he discovered that he had been sleeping on his wand – most likely since he had turned over at one point during the night. He climbed from his bed and did some stretches, managing to cease the pain away and beam out of the open window into the rising sun of the morning as it rose slowly above the tallish tree tops. And then he remembered what this day was, and he knew what it was to bring and the reason why he was suddenly smiling.

His trunk lay packed and ready beside his bed filled with the properly picked contents that would assist him in what may lay ahead. Mostly it was just items of clothing and basic supplies; everything else he really did not need so they were left behind. He decided – for what he hoped would be the last time – to head downstairs for breakfast before his departure.

But to his amazement, Remus could not be found in the kitchen or his study or anywhere else in the house. And just before Harry was about to leave, before he was about to return to his room and fly away; he spotted it. Sitting on Remus' desk, already open and standing out as a vibrant blue over the rest of the other dull white paper – was a letter that had such familiar handwriting that he could not, not pick it up.

And as you might have guessed; he did just that.

The familiar hand writing on the front was neat and loopy and very stylish – and in gold ink it read:

"_Remus Lupin, at the desk in the study of Lupin Lodge."_

It was Molly Weasley's hand writing - and Harry wondered for a moment how on earth she knew exactly where Remus would be when that owl flew through the window - before his interest turned again and he flipped the letter over and continued reading:

"_Dear Remus,_

_I am happy to announce that at long last my youngest son, Ronald Weasley, has come to be engaged this very morning, the eighteenth of December at one forty-seven am to the sweet and intelligent Miss Hermione Jane Granger. As this news comes so close to Christmas, it is in the best interest of the Weasley family and the Granger family that this celebration it to be celebrated in all its glory._

_I hereby invite you to join us on the twenty-fifth of December, to not only celebrate Christmas on Christmas day, but to rejoice at the Burrow on the end of such wonderful news as this engagement for a dinner party that will start at around about seven and go through until late._

_I sincerely hope you are as thrilled with this news as we are and that you will join us on such a rare night as this – do send us an owl back with R.S.V.P to the Burrow as soon as you possibly can._

_From the entirety of each family,_

_The Weasleys & The Grangers_

_Merry Christmas."_

Harry wasn't quite sure what to do. He read it once over again before his hands went limp and the letter dropped to the floor. He simply stared into space – his mind was racing at one hundred miles per hour, trying to think of what to do but very much underachieving. He had to tell himself out loud, he had to say the words – just to make sure it was real, that this was really happening.

'Ron and Hermione are getting married.'

Then it hit him.

He turned and raced out of the study, through the kitchen and up the stairs into his room. Without another thought of hesitation, he picked up his trunk and his broom; he made sure everything was secure and then took his leap of faith through the window, kicked down and was suddenly soaring upwards over the trees and into the clear air of county England and towards a new beginning.

-

Ron tied the note to the owl and let it fly off; in a way feeling glad it was the last owl that he intended to send that day. Every possible contact that had already been contacted about the engagement had been sent fresh news about Ginny's disappearance, and anyone could understand how Molly Weasley felt at the moment – on top of the world yesterday with the news of her son, now well underneath it with this news of her daughter.

Ron turned back around to his mother and fiancée sitting at the table.

'I don't get it,' Molly said, sipping a bit of whiskey she had gotten herself. Ron and Hermione had at first thought of Molly drinking herself under the table could not help, but then fighting for it back would only make things much worse. 'Where did I go wrong? How did I become such a bad mother-?'

'Mum! Don't say that.' Ron said. 'You are not a bad mother, what has happened today is not a result of anything a parent could do.'

'Ron's right, Molly.' Hermione said. 'It's not abnormal teenage behaviour at all, running away. You have brought up Ginny to be a smart, intelligent girl… who-'

'Has run away?' Ron suggested, raising an eyebrow to Hermione who sighed.

'Thank you, Ronald.' Hermione snapped.

Molly sniffed.

'Then why does it feel like my fault?' Molly asked. 'Ever since Harry's death, she's been stuck up in that room for the majority of everything – why didn't I see this coming?'

'I seriously thought she'd lost it,' said Ron, 'I'm sorry but being as seclusive and as quiet as she was – just completely mental I'm telling- OUCH!'

Hermione had stepped down hard on Ron's foot.

'Not. Helping.'

Indeed it wasn't. Molly took another swig of her whiskey and began to wail a bit more; Hermione put an arm around her to comfort her but eventually the whiskey would win out and Molly lost consciousness muttering to herself.

'That wasn't very nice.' Hermione said to Ron.

'Oh come on look at her,' Ron said, pointing to his mother. 'Doesn't that make you want to cuss at Ginny and not only give her an earful when she gets back, but curse her to the grave?'

Hermione sighed. 'I intend too.'

'See.' Ron said, nodding.

Hermione looked back around at Molly and sighed.

'Oh I feel so useless,' she said, grabbing the whiskey bottle from Molly's prying hands and putting some distance between the two of them. 'I hope your father is having better luck.'

Suddenly an echoing pop could be heard from the living room and Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

'This could be him now.' Ron said, moving in front of Hermione as a precautionary measure and edging towards the living room door. 'Dad?'

There was no answer; Ron looked around at Hermione and nodded, both reached for their wands and pointed it at the opened door.

'Hello?' Ron called.

And then Remus Lupin appeared, looking pale and slightly dazed – but he looked at the two of them firmly nonetheless.

'Remus?' Hermione whispered.

'Bloody hell.' Ron said, putting his wand away. 'I could have hexed you.'

'I just had to come, and see.' Remus said, looking around the kitchen. 'I heard the news.'

Ron and Hermione nodded.

'Congratulations the both of you!' He beamed.

'Oh,' said Ron.

Remus moved forward and shook Ron's hand, before passing by him and hugging Hermione.

'May I just say… it's about bloody well time!' Remus said shockingly. 'None of us are getting any younger you know and- what? What's the matter?'

He had stopped at the absurd look both of them gave him.

'You obviously left before getting our second letter.' Hermione said, looking up at the elder werewolf.

'A second letter?' Remus asked.

Hermione nodded with the deepest sigh. 'Ginny's gone.'

Remus raised an eyebrow and looked around at Ron. 'Gone?'

'Gone.' Ron repeated. 'Ran away. Disappeared. Vanished.'

'How? When?' Remus looked confused.

'We're not sure.' Hermione said. 'We kind of, well we had a lot of Ron's family over last night to celebrate our – well you know. Molly woke up this morning and found Ginny's room empty.'

'Molly.' Remus breathed.

He looked around for a moment and spotted her slouched over the kitchen table with the bottle of rum just out of arms reach.

'Oh my.' Remus said, moving over to her.

'We thought we may as well let her.' Ron explained, moving to Remus' side. 'Rather than for her to get aggravated, upset or even more annoyed.'

'No you, you're probably right on that one.' Remus nodded. 'OK so Arthur is-?'

'At the Ministry leading a search party.' Hermione answered.

'OK and you two have-'

'Been sending out owls for the majority of the morning to family, friends – people we know,' Ron said, 'to be on the lookout for Ginny in case she shows up.'

'Right well that's unlikely.' Remus cleared his throat. 'I suppose no one has thought to search my lodge?'

Ron looked around at him. 'No. Why?'

'Well it isn't like I'm hiding her there.' Remus said. 'Because I am not – but well, umm…-'

'Remus?' Hermione came around to look at him. 'If you knew something you would tell us, right?'

Remus made an odd noise escape the side of his mouth. 'Course.'

Ron eyed him.

'It's just well… there's a chance Ginny might be there that's all.' Remus coughed.

'Didn't you just come from there?' Ron asked.

'Well umm… no. Actually, no.' Remus looked at them. 'I've been… to Nymphadora's.'

Hermione gasped, but Ron just continued to look dumbfounded.

'Who?' he asked.

'You two are, together?' Hermione asked in anticipation.

Remus sighed, and then slowly nodded.

Hermione absolutely shrieked.

'Wait, who?' Ron looked blank.

'I can't believe it!' Hermione hugged Remus. 'You two are cute together!'

Remus blushed; Ron rubbed his head and started ticking off fingers trying to figure it out.

'Change of subject.' Remus snapped, Hermione pulled away. 'I shall go check my Lodge and upon not finding Ginny, I will proceed to help with the search and I'm sure Har-'

He stopped and looked around; both Ron and Hermione looked at him funny.

'I'd best get going.' Remus shook his head thoroughly and walked out the kitchen door, disapperating.

Hermione watched him go.

'That was strange,' she said. 'Was he about to say "Harry" do you reckon?'

'Who?' Ron snapped finally, turning an odd shape of violet. 'Who in the hell is Nymphadora?'

-

Harry placed his trunk on the curve and shielded his eyes from the afternoon sun as it raised high above London. He looked around the street, and was thankful it was practically deserted – which meant he was safe enough at least to go ahead and do what he was intending to do. He reached into his pockets, shuffled around a bit until he managed to grab a hold of what he wanted and yanked it out. It was a small piece of paper that was folded up; Harry looked around again before opening it up and smoothing it out – squinting to read what was printed in small writing across it.

"_The Burning Phoenix has fallen, so that the rest of us may live; in peace."_

Harry looked around again at the street, then up at the two houses he stood near. Number eleven was to his left and to his right was number thirteen – odd thought to some it might have been, it wasn't to Harry. He only had to think about what he had just read and instantly a house appeared between the other two like it had been there the entire time. Well in actual fact, it had been.

Harry burnt the piece of paper he had read so no one else could read it and picked up his trunk, moving forwards across the pavement and then up the stone steps to the front door. He checked again up and down the street - just simple behaviour for him – before wrenching open the door, stepping over the threshold and slamming it closed.

Engulfed in absolute and complete darkness, Harry began searching his pockets again – this time for a completely different artefact. After a minute of searching he found the wand he owned, in which he withdrew and cast the "lumos" spell so as his was ignited and lit up the hallway in which he stood in. And it looked, pretty much the same as it had the last time he saw it – only time had affected it, and the walls were dirtier and the floorboards were a bit looser than they had been.

He placed his trunk at the foot of the stairs leading up, and took the stairs at the end of the hallway leading down – where it lead him to the small cellular kitchen that had once hosted many Order meetings and it was also a place where Harry had spent a lot with his now deceased Godfather. Now it basically lay empty – the large wooden table looked old and worn and the cupboards were half off their hinges and some no longer had their original knobs.

After going through some of the cupboards and finding nothing but cobwebs, dust and spiders – Harry proceeded back out of the kitchen and into the hallway where he collected his trunk and headed upwards. Up basically was where he went, the entire way until the stairs stopped and the door leading to the Master Bedroom was left in his way. And after trying but failing to open the door, Harry placed his trunk beside him and withdrew his wand again.

First he tried some basic spells, amateur stuff – "aloha mora" and all that they teach you at a first grade level. Then he tried more complex spells, those of which he remembered from the training he had gotten through the order. Eventually one of the more complex spells had an affect, and the door clicked ajar and Harry slipped in and quickly made himself at home.

He found, some rather unusual items around the place – most of which he slightly recognised as things he himself had been helping rid of in the big clean up of this place back in fifth year. There was no doubting how they got up here; unless they were replicas, Kreacher was most likely the one who had brought them here in the attempt to rescue as much of Black family honour as he could. Harry merely shrugged and chucked them away into the small waste paper basket that sat in the corner of the room and knew to himself that – Sirius wouldn't have cared one bit.

So as the sun lowered and lowered and the afternoon turned into evening, Harry sat on his bed in silence; he felt his mind was clear with no Remus, no annoying voice and no burden that a life awaited him upon his return to the Wizarding world - and he had absolutely no idea that little Ginny Weasley was just thinking the exact same thing as him, only three floors down.


	12. Chapter 12

12

'Did you hear? Arthur Weasley's daughter disappeared this morning and they have the entire Ministry searching for her.'

'I heard she had been captured by Death Eaters and have forced half the Ministry and their Aurors into panic.'

'Either way, Rufus Scrimgeour is furious that they're wasting time on this girl – which they say was only recently thought to have suffered from depression over Potter's death-'

'Potter was their friend wasn't he?'

'Potter and Weasley? Yeah I remember hearing their names together in the paper at one point.'

'During the war-'

'Yes that's it. They was good friends they was.'

'Were.'

'Huh, oh yeah…'

Ginny continued to keep the hood around her face well covered, as every second conversation was of the news that she had disappeared – but some of the things she heard about herself were way out of proportion and she knew better than this for it to be true. However, she did make a mental note to be quick about getting supplies before returning to the House of Black to do her best and hide it from anyone and everyone if she could.

She passed the two Wizards standing near the entrance of Flourish and Blotts and continued down Diagon Ally, sure not to look suspicious while trying not to bump into anyone either. At first she had not been sure whether it was a good place for her to go, because her brothers did own a shop here and a day never passed with her being here meeting someone she knew. But as she had no muggle money, there was really no other choice.

So with the handful of Galleons she had in her pockets – and it was enough despite it being only a handful – she stalked as much of Diagon Ally as she could bother with and had left amazingly, within an hour. Walking back to Grimmauld Place with her shopping was a bit more difficult than it had been to walk there – less pleasant and a lot more stopping and starting to be as comfortable as she could with the multiple bags.

Grimmauld Place was never really a busy street, but Ginny knew she always had to be careful when it came to staying at number twelve. The muggles along the street - or any other street for that matter - always have had good intentions for when new neighbours move in; but Ginny wanted her stay to be meaningless, to not let anyone know she was there or to mingle at any sort of tea party that could expose her hideout and her world. And thankfully she managed to make it up the stone steps and into the black house without even the interruption from a swoop of a bird.

Once inside she made her way along the corridor, down the stairs into the kitchen and placed the shopping on the table. As if it knew what was to come, her stomach growled and she immediately responded by peeling open some muffins she bought (double chocolate chip of course) and tore into it like she had just discovered chocolate for the first time.

A moment passed where she felt it slither illustriously down her throat and all her senses went off in ecstatic fashion, before she came too and started unpacking. It was your common essentials for a Wizard or Witch in this case; fresh fruit, pumpkin juice, bottles of water (the taps had rusted and no loner worked) some muffins, some assortments of bread and herbs and a couple of bottles of Butterbeer.

It was not a lot, but it was enough.

Ginny finished up her muffin, put the stuff she had gotten away and headed upstairs to her room where she stayed and contemplated on what she may do next. She thought of nothing basically, absolutely nothing – and she absolutely loved it. It felt rewarding – probably the most rewarding thing since she had arrived; and she could tell this place would help her, help her clear her mind and her memory of everything she did not need to have. And she loved the silence this place gave her and perhaps, finally she had made the right choice and could start over again.

Eventually the darkness of night time caught up to her and as coldness of winter hit, she managed to find some extra blankets to help warm up as time was nearing ever so close to Christmas; and with that in mind, Ginny fell asleep and dreamed heavily about the first Christmas she had had with Harry at Hogwarts – and it was a pleasant dream, remembering what he got her and the feeling of joy she had – in all it meant she got some much needed rest for the days that were to come.

-

Remus managed to catch up to Arthur, as he was searching through a long abandoned hut south-west of London – apparently one of the farmers over the hill had come to collect stray cattle, and found there was a light on when he knew very well that the land was not owned nor used. He had reported it to the police last night, and they naturally assumed it to be rowdy teenagers and looked no further into it – Arthur Wesaley managed to find the paper work on it and thought, possibly, it could be where his daughter was hiding out.

'No luck.' Arthur said sadly as Remus went in to find no more than seven Ministry aurors standing around and basically scratching their heads. 'You can see here, a fire had been lit – just looks like muggle teenagers here. No matter – we keep searching.'

'Arthur, now be reasonable.' Remus said as he followed them out the hut. 'Have you not stopped to think that Ginny might not want to be found?'

'She is my daughter, Remus-'

'Exactly.' Remus nodded and pointed a finger at Arthur. 'She is your daughter. I taught her in her second year and saw great things from her Arthur – she may not be of age but you must surely understand; she is quite capable of surviving on her own.'

'But she is not of age.' Arthur persisted.

'With Ginny, most say she could be.' Remus grabbed Arthur's arm and pulled him around to face him. 'Now as I am not a father myself I can not tell you what to do – but I do believe, as a family friend, I can give you advice. And my advice, Arthur – would be to let her sort this out on her own.'

Arthur glared at him. 'Why?'

'Because I have confidence in her.' Remus said simply. 'She is doing this for a reason – you for one should know she would not run away without any sort of purpose; it is something she needs to sort out on her own.'

Arthur grunted and looked away towards the empty hut he had just searched through, and thought about the other dozen locations he had found empty so far and had to admit everything was beginning to seem pointless. He knew of course his daughter is highly intelligent, more so than himself and he supposed there was obvious purposes, and that Harry Potter's death may be a leading factor – as he knew she had loved him.

'You might be right.' Arthur said finally.

Remus nodded and scratched his chin. 'Good. So then you'll stop looking for her, and let her return upon her own will?'

Arthur pondered this thought for several minutes. He kept fidgeting and muttering, and the aurors were beginning to become restless. Even Remus - renown for his patience and gratitude – clicked his tongue in the search for a response.

'OK.' Arthur spat.

Remus beamed.

'You'll stop looking?' Remus asked hopefully.

Arthur smiled. 'No.'

Remus' grin vanished.

'What?'

'Remus I must keep looking.' Arthur said. 'Molly would not let me live it down if I did not.'

Arthur moved past Remus and started barking orders and the small group of Aurors began disapperating away.

'Arthur.' Remus persisted as the remaining Auror left with a pop. 'Surely you would think, if Ginny wanted to be found she might have-'

'Remus.' Arthur interrupted, moving his hand on his wand holster. 'You seem to be determined for me to not find my daughter – is there something you are hiding?'

'Of course not,' Remus said fiercely, seemingly upset with such an accusation. 'I want to find Ginny too Arthur, I want her to be safe – but I was merely being resourceful and suggesting things might not be as bad as any of us think it is.'

Arthur sighed and lowered his hand to his side. 'I'm sorry, you are probably right – but it's not like I can just top looking.'

'Very well.' Remus said, admitting defeat. 'It is not my place to tell you what to do.'

Arthur nodded gratefully. 'So then now what Remus, what do you plan to do? Come along, come help us?'

Remus cleared his throat. 'Forgive me but, I have a personal issue of my own and-' he stopped to look around making sure the area was clear before continuing, 'full moon tomorrow night.

'Ah.' Arthur understood.

'I sincerely hope you find Ginny, Arthur – I really do.' Remus said. 'And I dearly hope she is safe and that god has forbidden her to be harmed. Until next time, Arthur - all the best and good luck.'

Remus turned with a swish of his cloak and was gone.

-

Ginny woke up early the morning after her arrival and promptly got out of bed almost immediately. She had cereal down in the kitchen, hid it away again in the top most cupboard and promptly left Grimmauld Place and took to walking the outskirts of London. She was well disguised, as she had always owned muggle clothing so she was not looked at twice – and she had a hat on to cover her vibrant red hair and some stylish sunglasses that blended her in so perfectly, her own father would not be able to pick her out.

She found a small park just outside London where she sat down to eat her lunch she had prepared earlier and watch the peculiar muggles walk along with their pets on their daily walk. It was peaceful, right up until she noticed a newspaper sitting underneath the bench in which had seemingly been forgotten. It was a muggle newspaper, but what caught her attention was the picture on the front cover was of none other than herself, smiling back at her with a tentative grin.

She promptly dropped her lunch and her jaw, pulling the paper closer and confirming it was indeed a picture of herself – a little out dated but there was no denying it.

Certainly it was her alright, she could tell because her hair may have been slightly shorter than what it is now – but she had been persistent not to get a haircut when her Aunt May came to visit; but when Aunt May does come visit, it's either your hair is already short – or it will be by the time she left because despite her now working as a cleaner, her early days were that of hairdressing.

Ginny's brain fade subsided and she looked up and around in case someone had recognised her from the paper. But the few people that were around were fairly occupied with their own business. So Ginny opened the paper and quietly read the small article:

_Have you seen this girl?_

_Police have released this photo in the hope that a young girl that disappeared near the town of Ottery St. Catchpole on Thursday the eighteenth may be spotted somewhere on the streets of London. No name has been released of this girl as of yet, but Detective Sargent Hawkins of the Missing Pesons Department in London warn people not to confront her as she may be slightly delusional, depressed and psychotic._

'_I want it to be known that she is more a potential threat to her own health than others,' he said in a conference late last night, 'but if you do in fact happen to spot this individual, it is recommended that you alert authorities to her whereabouts rather than take initiative into your own hands.'_

_Search parties have been set up to search the more vast locations of England, but Hawkins says it is unlikely she would be found. A pending reward is awaiting those who correctly identify the individual and alert police – more unfolding news will be posted in the afternoon's edition of this paper…_

Ginny scowled.

'Delusional?' she spat. 'Psychotic? Depressed?'

She chucked the paper in the bin in disgust and stormed off, heading out of the park and back along the side skirts of London.

'Imagine that.' Ginny said to herself five minutes down the road. 'I have a bounty on my head – and I can't believe I beat Fred and George to it.'

Unfortunately, she did not think they would be impressed with her current situation so she stopped thinking about it and returned to Grimmauld Place rather late in the afternoon, despite the fact she had dropped her lunch not even quarter of the way through it, and had no jumper to put on now as the sun had lowered and coldness began to creep upon her.

She immediately beam lined for the room she was staying in to grab a jumper before making her way back to the kitchen downstairs and decided to make herself something to eat. Rice was really all she had, so she boiled some water and put in a couple of cups of rice and searched the empty cupboards for any sort of plates.

Surprisingly she found several left in a very back corner, so she grabbed the cleanest and went to pull it out of the cupboard but it slipped and came crashing down onto the floor and shattered into hundreds of pieces.

'Shit.' Ginny exclaimed in fury.

She grabbed a hand broom and began cleaning it up, muttering to herself and occasionally checking the rice. She had just about swept up the last bit of shattered ceramic when something made her stop and listen carefully. And there is was again; a slight creak that came from the other side of the door.

Ginny turned to stare at the kitchen door as it moved slightly ajar, and the single light from within the kitchen cast a misty glow strong enough to silhouette a figure that moved strategically from behind it and began to ascend the stairs. In a heat of the moment decision, Ginny threw the hand brush aside, withdrew her wand and bolted through the door and up the stairs and into the hallway where the silhouetted figured had reached the door.

'Stop!' Ginny bellowed.

They came to a halt with their hand on the door knob.

'Up.' Ginny hissed. 'Put your hands where I can see them. NOW! Don't make me hurt you.'

A pair of male hands slowly rose into the air but the owner of them did not turn around to look at her. Ginny stepped forward with her wand pointed at him unsure what to do next in case this person was a muggle. But then again, how on earth could a muggle have found a magical place such as this without being shown. So she decided to question them.

'Who are you?' Ginny asked.

There was no answer. The figure moved a little but kept his arms up, that was it.

'I'll ask again.' Ginny said. 'Who are you?'

Nothing.

Ginny suddenly became annoyed and cleared her throat before taking another step forward.

'Identify yourself. NOW!' Ginny demanded. 'Or I WILL hurt you.'

As Ginny got closer, and the light began to hit different parts of him and she managed to get a better look. Longish dark black hair that was all over the place, thin torso yet rather well built and she noticed the ends of glasses hooking over one ear.

'Who ARE you?' Ginny said in a more curious tone.

A long sigh escaped his lips as he turned around slowly to look back at her firmly with stunning emerald green eyes and a rather crooked smile twisted upon the face of Harry James Potter.

'Hello Ginny.'


	13. Chapter 13

13

'Harry?' Ginny breathed after a minute or so of silence.

There is absolutely no one on this slightly yellowing earth that could possibly decrypt the ways in which Ginny Weasley felt right now. For as she stared deeply into those familiar emerald green eyes with a mixture of emotions, she let her wand drop to the floor in complete horror shock that plunged the two of them into absolute darkness. But Harry's cold, white and heartless face stood out through the blackness, and all Ginny could do was stare at him in disbelief as no words came to her that could possibly begin to describe how she felt.

Harry was speechless also, his legs felt numb and his mind was blank – more so than usual and he had to wonder how he was going to get himself out of this predicament. Perhaps if he slipped out the door and disapparated quickly, she might have thought of him being only a ghost or an imagination brought on by the remembrance this house had for him: but he doubted she would be that foolish. However, seems as he could not think of any other easy way out of this without getting what he deserved, he took dramatic caution and moved his foot one pace to his left: it was enough to bring Ginny from her trance, and within an instant her instincts had bent her over, scooped up her wand and pointed it directly at his heart, light again surrounded the two of them and her pupils were so narrowed that if looks could kill, Harry would have dropped- oh but wait of course, he was already dead.

To her anyway.

'Harry…' Ginny breathed again, this time it was more a statement of recognition, rather than a question. 'This isn't a dream? I mean, I'm not hallucinating am I?'

Harry didn't answer at first.

He watched as she looked around momentarily: perhaps she was searching for something that would give her a reason to believe she was seeing things. Instead she blinked, and upon finding him still standing there took a step closer, her wand out in front of her as if she wanted to reach out and poke him with it to make sure he was in fact, real. And with this movement it suddenly became clear to Harry that it was the closest the two of them had been to each other since they had kissed back in March, before Harry had gone into battle.

He could smell a scent, flaring in his nostrils, or flowers and musk which always reminded him of the Burrow, or rather – of Ginny. It was her trademark scent, more than likely her natural smell, rather than a specific perfume she would purchase, and right now all Harry's brain was doing was breathing in the aroma that made him close his eyes and it was only her presence that stopped him from smiling.

Harry contemplated his answer for a moment, opening his eyes to see she had stopped in her tracks a mere metre and a half from him, yet he could smell her as if she stood in his embrace. After a momentary lapse in concentration which Harry imagined what she would feel like in his arms, he regathered himself in time to look into her eyes and finally, after such a prolonged and unnecessary absence: he would tell her the truth.

'No.' Harry said finally, he felt his Adams apple lodged in the middle of his throat somewhere.

There was a moment's silence where they had a stand off, the only noise was of the slight creaking of door that lead down into the kitchen and the distant rumbling of cars on the nearby freeway. Harry didn't like it at all, especially when dealing with Ginny. He knew she was an open person that preferred to tell people what she thought of them straight away, rather than to bottle it all away. So you can understand why Harry shifted nervously in the silence, while Ginny stared him down: possibly on the verge of tears.

'But… you're dead.' Ginny whispered faintly.

'Yeah well about that…' Harry started, but he did not manage to finish his sentence.

Before he had realised it, before he had anytime to react, Ginny was brandishing her wand and mouthing an incantation, her fiery red hair swung all around her as Harry was lifted off his feet and thrown backwards, hitting the door behind him and crumbling to the floor. He was immediately nursing a blood nose from the force behind the curse, but also the middle of his back was aching from the impact made by crashing into the door.

'Sorry.' Ginny said surprisingly, putting away her wand and hiding a wry smile. 'Let me help-'

'I'm fine.' Harry snapped, finally managing to get to his feet while holding his back.

'I had to make sure it was really you.' Ginny explained flatly. 'Are you sure you're OK?'

'Yes.' Harry assured her.

'Definitely?' Ginny persisted.

'YES.' Harry reassured her.

'Good!'

WHAM.

For the second time in a minute, Harry was toppling backwards into the door and falling into a heap on the floor. Ginny had struck him in the face with her fist, alarmingly the same sort of way Dudley Dursley would have – and Harry, despite the amount of pain he was in, was impressed she was able to produce about as much power with her fist as she did with a wand.

'Wha-?!' Harry babbled.

'The curse was to assure me you were real.' Ginny explained slowly, holding her right hand. 'THAT was for not telling me you were still alive.'

WHAM.

Harry took another blow to the head, this time as the door to the house was forced open and Remus Lupin stepped, cautiously pointing his wand towards Ginny, who had withdrawn hers simultaneously and they stared at each other before Remus observed the situation.

'Remus.' Ginny breathed, lowering her wand.

'Ginny.' Remus nodded, lowering his wand also. 'I thought you might be here, you know you've placed the entire Ministry into overdrive, as well as your family who are worried sick and- oh.'

Remus had not seen Harry until he had looked down, raising an eyebrow at the bloody nose.

'You talked to her then?' Remus said.

'I fear there's more to come.' Harry replied with a grimace.

Remus helped Harry to his feet in silence, all the while Ginny stood staring at them with her mouth open, looking from one straight face to the other. If she had not been so shocked, she may have had the decency of mind to raise her wand and point it at the two who now stood at the door: neither were shocked to see the other.

'You knew.' Ginny said faintly, realising this and pointing a shaking finger at Remus.

'Yes.'

'You knew, Remus.' Ginny repeated, moving forwards. 'You knew all this time and you never told me?'

'Harry didn't tell you.' Remus corrected.

'And you didn't tell me either,' Ginny went on, she seemed to be letting everything out, all the frustration, all the emotion from which she had uncharacteristically kept bottled up since hearing of Harry's missing body and the likeliness that he was dead, all of it was flowing out of her in one swift motion and she did not think she could stop.

'Ginny you must understand,' Remus said, backing backwards against the door, 'I told him too, so many times.'

'Every time I was at your lodge,' Ginny snapped, as if she had no respect for her former Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, 'all those times I was there, thinking you were lonely or going insane – you were hiding him away.'

'Ginny I wasn't hiding anyone.' Remus told her. 'You never asked about Harry, I never had to answer-'

'But I felt sorry for you, Remus,' Ginny persisted, 'I really thought you were depressed, especially with that note you wrote- "_I am glad I don't have to believe it. I'm sorry that others do._"'

Ginny was of course referring to the note he, Remus, had written about the article in the paper about Harry's death; they both knew this.

'I knew she was suspicious of that.' Harry spat sideways at Remus.

'Not now, Harry,' Remus muttered, returning his gaze to Ginny. 'Listen, Ginny, I can understand this looks bad. But you have to realise, I told Harry to go and talk to you so many times I was going insane anyway; I would not be able to cope seeing either of you if Christmas had come along, and you were still in the dark about him-'

'But that still doesn't correct the fact that you lied.'

Ginny seemed to be very persistent in reminding Remus of this, but in actual fact she was talking to both of them as one and as her hand moved very close to her wands holster, she made absolute sure they knew how she felt.

'Both of you did.'

Harry and Remus would not like to have felt Ginny Weasley's wrath that evening whilst she was in such a mood. For a minute though, as words failed both of them, it had looked as though they were indeed about to be on the receiving end of something horrible: or in Harry's care, more so. But just as it looked like happening, the door in which Harry and Remus had their backs against was suddenly being forced open.

'Dad?' Ginny said in surprise, as Arthur Weasley appeared beside Remus.

But soon, they had to make room as no less than five- no six- wait, seven Ministry aurors who slid in with their wands out and pointed.

'Ginny!' Arthur croaked once he surveyed the situation, 'Lower your- wait…'

Of course, once he had surveyed everything, his eyes landed on Harry and his knees felt week. He promptly re-raised his wand and pointed it in Harry's direction, blinking and holding himself up against the ugly umbrella stand that looked as though it had been made from severed troll's leg. For a moment words failed him.

'What is this?' Arthur asked eventually, looking from Harry, to Remus and then Ginny.

'A question,' Ginny said, folding her arms, 'in which I would very much like to know the answer of myself.'

'You'll be answering several questions of your own when your mother gets a hold of you,' Arthur said threateningly, but then he snapped and returned his focus on Harry. 'Who is this impostor, Remus?'

'Impostor?' Harry snorted.

'It's very clear to me that you are some sort of sick psychopath,' Arthur started, 'who has managed, somehow, to come into possession of Harry Potter's DNA and brewed up some Polyjuice potion in order to fool my daughter into running away with you.'

'I did not run away with him,' Ginny snapped.

'Forcibly taken, then,' Arthur corrected himself.

'I AM Harry Potter.' Harry replied, 'and I did not trick Ginny into running away with me, Arthur, nor did I forcibly take her from anywhere.'

Harry could understand that Arthur was confused, as any parent would be if their child ran away, but he could see that things were only going to become more difficult with the more people who find out.

'Arthur-' Remus snapped as Arthur had opened his mouth to retort. 'This isn't an impostor, it's him – Harry's still alive.'

At these words there were murmurs from the Ministry aurors who were present, nodding their heads and pointing to the very familiar scar sitting upon Harry's forehead. Arthur opened and closed his mouth several times, clearly searching for words whilst looking at Harry's scar utterly puzzled. He did however, eventually, lower his wand.

'Well I-' Arthur looked at Ginny who said nothing. 'How do we know for sure?'

'Harry,' Remus said, not looking around. 'Please, reassure Arthur by telling everyone what form your Potronus takes?'

'It takes the form of a stag,' Harry said to Arthur, and Remus nodded, 'oh and Arthur, Mollywobbles would like to know her daughter is safe.'

Arthur went red and rounded his wand on Harry again.

'Mollywobbles?' Ginny wasn't sure if she wanted to ask.

'What is that suppose to mean?' Remus asked, now turning to face Harry.

Harry smiled. 'Arthur knows.'

Everyone looked around at Arthur who, despite the deepness of grey that had inevitably occurred from stress throughout the war, was somehow managing turned into a shade of red. After a minute or so, he lowered his wand and admitted defeat.

'OK it's him.' Arthur nodded and the Ministry aurors lowered their wands, 'and you lot,' Arthur continued, pointing more noticeably at the aurors, 'if I hear any hint that this gets around at work, it will be your heads.'

They may have shrugged, but when Arthur turned away they all made a face and began grinning at each other without a single word: as if reading each others thoughts.

'So then.' Remus said, rubbing his hands together. 'Is everything good and back to normal?'

'No.' Ginny said.

'No.' Arthur agreed.

'No?' Remus asked.

'No.' Arthur repeated as he turned his head to his daughter. 'Ginny you will come home with me, and explain to your mother and me why you felt the need to run off.'

Ginny made a face.

'Harry,' Arthur continued, 'I can't believe it's really you but, you will have to go to the Ministry and sort out things with them-'

'But Arthur I-'

'Look, there will be no need to explain to them why you have been in hiding,' Arthur interrupted, his eyes narrow, 'in fact, I daresay you're more than likely to receive your "Order of Merlin, First Class" for your efforts in defeating V-Voldemort.'

Harry raised his eyebrows and looked impressed.

'Having said that,' Arthur went on, 'it will be a different when your friends get a hold of you: you can assure they, along with me, will be demanding a thorough explanation.'

Harry frowned.

'Well he doesn't have to explain himself to me,' Ginny said, moving forwards and eyeing Harry as she passed him, 'because as far as I'm concerned, Harry Potter is dead to me.'

And with one last fleeting look at Harry, Ginny left with the impression that she never wanted to see or talk to Harry, ever again.


	14. Chapter 14

14

After Harry apparated with Remus and the Ministry aurors to the Ministry of Magic itself, and they were lead across the rather empty atrium into the rattly elevator that would lead to the Minister's office, Harry proceeded to ponder at what Ginny had said. The words pierced his eardrums with every echoing replay of it, as if she were beside him screaming it into his ear. He felt Remus' glare the entire way, but did not look sideways to show any sign of what he was thinking. The elevator eventually came to a halt on the top floor, the cool female voice that usually rang out manage to echo over Harry's thoughts and said, "Level One, Ministry of Magic Incorporate Headquarters, Ministry Quarters and Minster for Magic Head Office, watch your step and have a nice day."

Harry only half felt himself being ushered forward as he stared up at the high ceiling, gold railings held up a marble surface and inscriptions of all sorts were etched in different languages and angled in different directions, like a oversized notice board that had been overly used by every sort of International Wizengamont Convention available. When he lowered his eyes, he saw there were heaps of large desks spread across a large hall they were in, Wizards and Witches were running around as if they were in a movie in fast-forward mode. Memos flew above their heads, going in all sorts of directions and dodging anything in their way. A few zoomed into the elevator Harry and Remus had just left and flapped lazily around the light that hung in there.

One of the aurors that had accompanied them from Grimmauld Place tapped him on the shoulder, and Harry followed as they made their way along the row of desks, a couple of Wizards here and there stopped suddenly from what they were doing and stared, almost at once realising it was Harry when they saw him. He hastily flattened his fringe as they came near the end of the large hall, that he steps leading up to an over-sized arch shaped golden door that was gleaming down at them. Above the arched doorway was a wooden railing that went all the way around and carved in matching gold letters was "The Minister for Magic Head Office: Rufus Scrimgeour."

One of the aurors knocked three times then yanked at the handle and pushed it open. Remus nudged Harry forward and followed over the threshold, entering the Ministers office where Harry was sure, he'd never been in before.

Immediately what stood out was the large oak wooden desk sitting plainly in the middle of the room, a royal looking chair sat behind it but it was empty. To the left was an abnormally large bookcase that looked to have more old parchment scrolls in it than books, while to the right stood many interesting objects: some were mysterious, while some Harry was able to recognise from his days back in Dumbledore's office. Hanging from the roof was a large silver chandelier that sparkled against the sunlight pouring through the square window at the end of the room.

Here, by the long purple drapes stood Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic, his back was turned but with a lionlike mane that was slightly more greyed than Harry had seen him last, it was near impossible to mistake him for someone else. As the door behind them closed shut, Rufus turned on the spot to view who had entered: when he saw Harry, he simply beamed.

'Harry James Potter,' he said hoarsely, moving forwards with a limp around his desk to shake hands with Harry – as if making sure it was indeed him. 'You would not believe how cheerful I was to hear you were still alive; after almost seven months, why I almost toppled of my chair in surprise.'

Harry looked at the large, sturdy chair behind the Minister's desk and found that hard to believe. Nevertheless he suppressed a shrug as Rufus went on to shake Remus' hand.

'So then Weasley's daughter was found too?' Rufus asked as he moved back around his desk.

'Yes,' Remus replied. 'Arthur took her home. He said he'd be here once things were,' Remus stopped to look sideways at Harry, 'resolved.'

Rufus nodded and signalled for the two of them to take a seat each that sat the other side of his desk.

'You are close to the Weasley's, are you not Harry?' Rufus asked with a smile, pouring out three glasses of whiskey. 'You were, after all, at their house for Christmas when we first met.'

'Yes.' Harry said flatly.

When Rufus eyed him, Harry added 'Minister,' quickly.

'Well, I'm sure they will be as interested to know why you have been hiding away as I am,' Rufus said, handing them each a glass. 'From what I hear, he's been with you, Remus?'

Remus looked sideways again at Harry.

'That's correct, Minister,' Remus said. 'But he chose to distant himself from everyone else, and I felt it was not my business to intervene: besides suggesting that he owed it to himself to be recognised.'

'Quite right,' Rufus added, lifting his glass up in recognition and taking a sip. 'What –was- the purpose of distancing yourself then, Harry?'

Harry pondered this for a moment, staring down at the glass of whiskey he had been handed and searched for the right words to use.

'I'm not entirely sure,' Harry said truthfully, looking up at Rufus who seemed puzzled. 'I guess, I always wanted to let my friends know I still existed – but my self-conscious mind seemed to put up some sort of protective ring; so every time I felt like giving in, it would sort of lock my legs and disable me to advance.'

Rufus leant back and surveyed Harry as his hand scratched his chin.

'This is big news you know, Harry,' Rufus said, his brow slightly raised, 'front page news, a Daily Prophet exclusive – "Potter out of hiding; blames self for inability to come forward."'

'That's not what I said,' Harry said angrily, Rufus raised his brow higher, 'sir.'

'Harry there's no need for anger,' Rufus said coolly, sipping his whiskey, 'the Wizarding world will want to know you are alive, they will not be overly fussed that the reason you went into prolonged hiding is because you could not face your friends. In fact, you will be seen nothing short of a hero: after all, what you've managed to achieve is beyond phenomenal.'

Harry would have replied but was lost for words.

'So having said that,' Rufus said, swirling his whiskey a little, 'would you like to tell us what happened, Harry?'

'I'm sorry?' Harry was puzzled.

'Your victory,' Rufus explained, taking another sip of his drink. 'You manage to defeat the Dark Lord, without a scratch on you-'

'Actually, Minister,' Remus cut in, Rufus looked around at him, 'he didn't walk away without injury. He still has massive scaring on his back and chest: I patched him myself, actually, and despite my only resource was "Magical Medical Remedies" I must say that I did some above average work.'

'Really?' Rufus asked, sounding astonished. 'May I see?'

Harry was quietly uncomfortable about showing his torso to the Minster of Magic, and he explained this with the dark look he gave sideways at Remus. Rufus looked back and forth between them then put up a hand a shook his head.

'Never mind,' Rufus said, writing something down on a pad beside him.

Harry could not pick out what he had written, except that it was nearly a paragraph long in small, cramped writing.

'So then, Harry,' Rufus went on as Harry leant back in his seat, 'will you tell me then, how it was you managed to defeat the Dark Lord?'

'Voldemort you mean,' Harry corrected him, and Rufus winced: thankfully he did not drop his glass, 'and I'd rather not talk about it: all you need you to know, and all you need to hear is that he fell to curse from my wand.'

'You used an "Unforgivable Curse"?' Rufus asked in amazement.

'NO.' Harry said flatly.

'Come now Harry, you can admit it to me,' Rufus said, smiling, 'you will not be sent to Azkaban for using the killing curse on a killer; on the contrary – you will be given the highest honour an ordinary Wizard can receive-'

'I don't want anything,' Harry snapped, his anger was rising.

'Harry-' Remus started.

'No,' Harry hissed, seething at the thought of accepting anything from the Ministry after the way they had treated him and more significantly, Albus Dumbledore, for so many years. 'I just want to get my friends back, and carry on with my life and forget all that has happened.'

As if Harry's thoughts had jumped from his head, glided across the country and alerted the people to whom he was talking about, the door to the Minister's office opened and diverted his attention.

'Aha,' Rufus said, placing his glass on the table and standing, 'how appropriately timed.'

Arthur Weasley entered the room, looking slightly older than before if that was possible. He was followed by (Harry's heart sank) more familiar red hair and brown and bushy hair and for a flirting moment there was a stand-off as Ron and Hermione stared at him in disbelief, both looked angry and ready to yell: but it was Arthur who spoke first.

'Minister.' Arthur said, nodding.

'Weasley.' Rufus said smiling. 'All's well that ends well, yes?'

'Indeed,' Arthur agreed. 'My wife and I appreciate the Ministries help with finding our daughter.'

'Not at all, not at all,' Rufus said smiling, he looked around at Harry. 'I was just told by Harry here, that he wants things to return to normal also: he wants his friends back and he wants to continue on with his life.'

'Is that so?'

Everyone looked around at Ron, who now had his hands clenched into fists.

'Look I can explain everything,' Harry hissed, unsure if he could beat Ron in a fist match. 'Firstly I'm really sorry-'

'Sure,' interrupted Ron, whose voice seemed normal for the time being.

'Really, I didn't mean for it to be dragged out for so long,' Harry said truthfully, 'I wanted to see you guys more than anything, just I was… held back… by something… I'm not sure…'

'Well, that clears that up,' said Ron. 'It would've been really annoying if you hadn't explained yourself properly.'

Harry supposed it was a start that Ron was talking to him, but he didn't appreciate the sarcasm he got even though he most likely deserved it. He looked at Hermione who was yet to say anything, and despite the fact she had a sad and confused look on her face, it seemed quite obvious that she wanted too.

'It wasn't easy for me, either,' Harry told them; Remus made a noise that started out sounding like a laugh but he turned it into a cough and took a sip of his whiskey.

Harry ignored it.

'You can't imagine how I felt only a few days ago,' Harry said, 'when I found out you were getting married!'

'Of course, we can't possibly imagine that,' Hermione whispered, everyone turned to look at her now as she moved forward and fiddled with something in her hand. 'I just wanted to be sure it's you, Harry. You do realise you put as all through hell, don't you?'

Harry nodded. 'I know; I can't begin to be sorry.'

Harry thought it was going better than he hoped for.

'I'm sure you can start some how.'

As she got closer, he thought perhaps she was going to begin re-building their friendship with a hug… when-

SLAP!

Harry staggered backwards in surprise after Hermione had made contact across his face. Harry clutched his cheek in horror as blood began to trickle down it, no one seemed to care. Hermione gave him another filthy look, then, after fiddling with the ring on her finger so it now faced the proper way up, she tore from the room.

Ron continued to watch Harry who was holding the cut under his eye and looking for help.

'Ron?' Harry hoped he would be reasonable.

But Ron just stood staring. He said nothing, but continued to stare darkly at Harry, similar to the way he reacted in their fourth year when they had had a row about him entering the Tri-Wizard Tournament. But unlike back then, when he had been not-guilty, he wasn't quite sure he would be able to resurrect any sort of repair from his long time friend. He wished Ron would have said something though, for it felt worse that Ron just watched him. Finally-

'Don't bother showing up at the Burrow,' Ron muttered, turning to leave in silence.

There was a pause, in which Harry went over in his mind that in under two hours into letting the world know he was still alive, he had suffered a blood nose, a sore back, a cut under the eye that appeared to be still bleeding and most probably needed stitches: and worst of all, he seemed to have lost the three people nearest and dearest to him that he had been away from for so long.

The growing guilt was filling the whole of Harry's chest like some monstrous, weighty parasite, now writhing and squirming. Harry could not stand this, he could not stand being himself anymore… he had never felt more trapped inside his own body and head, never wished so intensely that he could be somebody else, anybody else…

Arthur shook his head and left the office too with no more than a nod at Rufus, acting as though both Harry and Remus were invisible and that they were merely odd looking chairs. Remus sighed and sculled the whiskey he had been given, and looked down at the desk without a word. Rufus however, seemed heartless as he began to clap slowly.

Harry rounded on him.

'Beautiful,' Rufus said, clapping some more with a smirk. 'Well handled there, Mr. Potter-'

'Oh, so were going by last name status are we now?' Harry said angrily.

'Don't blame him, Harry,' Remus looked up at Harry, 'you knew that was coming, you know it was unavoidable: and you know you deserved it.'

All Harry could do was suppressed a sigh and admit defeat.

The werewolf was right. Damn it, he was always right: all the warnings he had given, or rather the suggestions which had been so obvious, any normal person would have reacted to them and Harry felt stupid to have ignored them. After all, seven months was a long time, long enough for some people to get over a death or a disappearance for something similar and it seemed that Remus gotten it spot on; "the longer you leave this, the worse it will become."

'Well then,' said Scrimgeour (now that we are going by surnames), 'if you wish not to delude just yet what happened to the Dark Lord, then we shall get on with the official business and dealing with the media?'

Harry said very little as he was taken into another part of Level One to get his "Order or Merlin, First Class" in which his name was placed in a log book, as well as a explanatory description why he received it and finally his signature. Then there was a call up by Scrimgeour for a media conference in which, again, Harry said very little and asked only to be left alone with the respect of privacy he felt he deserved.

'You do realise, you will need to tell people what happened that night eventually,' Remus said as they finally returned to Remus' Lodge, 'I myself am happy enough to know you are alive, rather than to put you through telling me: but the public will want to, Harry, they will want to know.'

Harry shrugged. 'I might think about it.'

Remus gave him an odd look but said nothing.

'Night.'

Harry skipped dinner and retreated to his room wanting to be, as he had been for the last seven months and will continue to be, very much alone.


	15. Chapter 15

15

Ginny's punishment had not been as severe as she had expected when she had arrived back to the Burrow accompanied by her father, as the announcement of Harry turning up alive at Grimmauld Place sort of, let her off the hook. Her mother seemed to have forgotten what she was yelling at Ginny for; Ron was not sure how to take it, he looked half confused as if expecting them to shout out "just kidding" unexpectedly; Hermione, as always, seemed in doubt without proof, and looked slightly unsettled when Arthur agreed for her to come along to the Ministry so she could see for herself that Harry was alive: Ron gathered himself in time to insist that he was to go too.

Molly merely stared into space, and continued to when Arthur gave her a peck on the cheek and then left for the Ministry without a word; Ron and Hermione followed him, both were looking pale and still in a slight haze of shock. Ginny did not wait for the penny to drop; she left her mother alone and intelligently made for her room in case there was more punishment to come her way.

As she slid into her room and calmly locked the door behind her, she edged over to sit on her bed and stared into space too, waiting inevitability for her emotions to play catch up so she may begin to cry. It was not the fact that she had been sent to her room without supper, while starving and having her tummy rumble loudly over her sobs; but rather the fact that Harry Potter was still alive, and that he had left her in the dark about it for over seven months now.

It had taken an accidental incident - such as the simple sound of a ceramic plate dropping onto a tiled kitchen floor, of a house that two people occupied, each oblivious to the other – that brought forward an unwilling meeting that had found Harry out. Naturally, she had taken some of her growing anger out on him, but she could not say for certain that there was no more hell to pay.

The eventual shock of everything seemed to pass rather quickly for Ginny, so much so that it was some time after she had stopped crying that she began to wipe her eyes dry. She sighed heavily as she lay backwards onto her bed, staring at the ceiling and hearing the distant noises of her mother downstairs who seemed to have managed to snap out of the trance Ginny had left her in, and was naturally cleaning things.

Ginny sort of dropped into a sub-conscious slumber, unaware of just how rapidly time was passing and was suddenly awakening to the distant sounds of Arthur, Ron and Hermione returning from the Ministry. She didn't have to wonder long what had happened, she guessed quite easily that it hadn't gone well at all as she heard Hermione streak past her door, making sounds that could only mean she was both angry and in tears. Ron was tearing after her, his footsteps thudded against the old moth-eaten floor and he was muttering things like "careless" and "disrespect" and other abusive words that do not need repeating, as he went.

Ginny didn't bother leaving her room; she could hear the distant voices of her mother and father debating a topic in the kitchen and she had no doubt it was the exact issue in which Ginny had been mellowing over since her arrival back from Grimmauld Place. Where was she to go from here? How could she ever forgive Harry? Could she go through life without Harry, knowing that he still existed? Would she ever get an honest reason from him why he had forgotten to mention to her that, for seven months, he had been hiding in Lupin Lodge and had decided not to show himself to her despite how often she came through there?

She suspected Ron and Hermione were in the same boat somehow, they were his best friends after all. They had been at his side for years, always supporting him and helping him and he in return he had treated them, treated Ginny, treated the world – as if it didn't exist. And here she thought, with a searing pain in her stomach that felt as if she had been jabbed with a rather large knife: that only two days ago, Ron and Hermione had announced their Engagement and they were moving on with their lives.

Questions began to pop up all over the place in Ginny's mind. Would this affect their wedding? It was bound to somehow. Were they going to put it off? Would they allow Harry to attend the Wedding? What would happen if he showed up without an invite? It was a continuos guessing game that seemed endless, and yet if Harry had the courage to come out and explained everything, explain his actions – then perhaps, just maybe there was a chance of things straightening out.

Ginny turned to one side and stared out her window from the position on her bed; light was beginning to fade, the sun in which she had gone walking in earlier that day ceased to exist, and the eerie silence that had filled the Burrow from the aftermath of such events seemed to settle and there was general echoed chatter through the hallways again. And the feeling of pure common sense began to return to Ginny's body – she did not just want things to end now, to ruin her life and Harry's life and more importantly, Ron and Hermione's soon-to-be new life.

After all, Harry and Ginny have a history together.

As if on que, a truly lightened thought then occurred to her, like a memory bobbing to the surface of her mind as if it had been waiting for something to trigger it. It was a memory that made her feel happy, yet empty and unsure, and it was due to recent events that this memory now occurred and made her insides squirm. It had been before the war, before they were to depart into the final battle that was either going to see their victory, or defeat.

… _Harry had dragged her from the room and pushed Ginny firmly against the wall, kissing her thoroughly and letting his arms wander before restraining himself pulling back, their noses as close together as they could be without touching and their eyes were clearly upon each other despite the rather dull light. Harry moved a strain of dirty red hair from her face and smiled, letting the remaining scent that dwelled on her run through his nostrils before gathering himself in order to say what he needed to say._

'_Gin I love you,' he whispered, their lips were almost touching, 'you know I do and, what ever happens-'_

'_I know, Harry.'_

'_I want you to go with Ron and Hermione,' Harry finished, Ginny stared at him; the plan had been she was to go with him, to fight side-by-side, regardless what the Dark Lord has planned for her. But he could not face life if she died, in case something horrible was to go wrong, 'and I don't want an argument.'_

'_But Harry-'_

'_Understand that this is important, Gin,' Harry uttered, she was so close he could have sworn he could taste her; but he quickly realised that she had already been on his lips. 'No matter the circumstance, we are to continue battling until the death: so, Gin, I don't want to get ahead of myself here but…'_

_There was a moment's pause where they heard distant yelling to their right._

'_What Harry?' she whispered._

'_Ginny Weasley,' Harry whispered in return, his bottom lip began quivering in a mixture of fear and anticipation, 'if we make it through this, if we come out the other end… will you-'_

'_What?' Ginny whispered; she thought she knew what was coming, despite the dullness of light she could see his emerald eyes twinkle at her._

'_Marry me.' He blurted out._

_Another pause; the yelling was getting louder. Ginny could hear her name being yelled, and Harry's also, people were getting closer as Ginny stared at him with a furrowed brow, her legs were numb and beginning to falter under her weight._

'_What?' She repeated._

_A clear voice from somewhere yelled, 'Ginny!'_

_Harry seemed to be fading away slowly, very slowly, still without an answer._

_A second booming voice clearly bellowed, 'GINNY!'_

'Ginny! Wake up!'

'I will, Harry!' Ginny spat as she sat up, staring around and blinking stupidly.

'What?'

'What?' Ginny snapped.

She stared blankly back at Hermione, suddenly aware she had fallen asleep and that she was back in her room and it was seemingly, by the look out her window, morning. Hermione was looking at her wearily, her eyes were slightly blood shot from lack of sleep and there were noticeable mascara rings under her eyes from where she had been crying.

'You will what?' Hermione said hotly, she tried to hide the fact that Harry's name had been mention.

'Nothing.' Ginny said quickly.

There was a moments pause where they stared at each other, Ginny still felt slightly flushed from the dream and was quickly looking for an escape route.

'Come on then,' Hermione said, taking Ginny's morning robe of a hanger and chucking it to her. 'Breakfast.'

It seemed as if they had all gone to bed last night, in the hope that when they woke up they would find everything that happened yesterday to have been all an impossible dream. So when _The Daily Prophet_ arrived bearing several front pages on Harry Potter's return, it put a sort of dampened mood upon all of them and reduced breakfast to no conversation at all. The only words spoken, other than the occasional mutter to pass on the syrup for their pancakes, was of Ron and Hermione's polite excuses to leave the table and wander upstairs where they would more than likely spend the entirety of the day.

Ginny sat there eerily, poking her food occasionally but not taking a bite. Her mother didn't seem to notice, and when Arthur left for work in a rush (explaining he had so much paperwork to finish than if piled as one might challenge the height of the tallest tower at Hogwarts) Molly set to work cleaning. Ginny would have had the heart to help, but the dream she had had last night had made her think so strongly of Harry that she went to her room and began to pace at such a rate, one of the pictures on her wall of her distant Uncle, barked at her to stop because it was making him dizzy.

-

Harry was snoring loudly, perhaps for the first time in months. The tiring events following his exposure from hiding since the war seemed to put him into an easy sleep, and he had been asleep since he had gotten back from the Ministry yesterday. An owl had awoken him though, delivering _The Daily Prophet_ with the news of his return from non-existence. He had glanced at it briefly before returning to bed, unaware that an owl with the latest issue of _the Quibbler_ would swoop in a minute later and drop it on his forehead. He had again scanned the pages and thrown it aside to turn over and get back to sleep.  
_The Daily Prophet_ was now folded up on his desk, issuing a full headline that read:

_HARRY POTTER RETURNS: 'THE DARK LORD DIED FROM MY WAND'_

They had managed to prolong Harry's very few comments into three very committed front pages, repeating things he had said but using the words differently or putting the same words in another order. T_he Quibbler_, which now lay near his trunk, had forced a small caption of Harry on the front page with a similar title, but they had only strung a few sentences together at the back underneath a much larger story on the growing rate of cannibalistic house-elves.

Harry was not one to care about what they put in the news about him anymore, as his friends seemed to have taken the discovery of his still-being rather personally, it seemed a somewhat distant and bleak outcome for him had been ensured anyway. Remus had tried to get Harry to act upon this as a progressive step, rather than a negative one. He had knocked hundreds of times, offering some food so they could chat, or suggesting they go to Diagon Ally in the morning so they could start over; but the potential thought of random Witches and Wizards coming up to him to congratulate him on defeating the Dark Lord simply deterred Harry completely.

Remus had left at some point last night, and he had said in passing that he was going to go and stay with Nymphadora so that Harry could have more time to mull things over alone. Foolishly you might say it was, to allow Harry to wake from this idiotic slumber alone, to hope he would take charge of his life, and to believe he would emerge when he was ready. The imminent problem with this theory was, Harry had been mulling things over for just on seven months now and it could only be suggested as pointless for him to continue.

There was a loud clatter in the distance, as though a jet plane was flying over head or car backfired on the nearest highway – either way Harry stirred and he opened his eyes, stretching and yawning as he blinked at the dismal afternoon sun. He felt tired and stiff, like he had been hibernating for seven months instead of hiding. The coolness of winter ran Goosebumps along his neck and shoulders, the arm in which he had been sleeping on felt numb and full of needles.

Rising from his bed he stretched again, looking around the room rather bored and resting his gaze upon a magazine lying rather carelessly on the floor. He crossed the room to fetch it, and as he turned it up the right way he frowned at the abysmal way he looked in the caption – he hastily threw it over his shoulder in disgust and in luck, it landed with a dull 'thud' in his waste paper basket.

He felt lost. Despite the fact that he had spent every waking moment since the end of the war desperately hoping that he would have the guts to tell his friends he was alive, Harry felt that now they knew by un-intentions of his own, things have considerably changed. His friends seem to think of him now, as merely an unwanted acquaintance – a burden that has affected their life so that it hurts to see him, hurts to be in the same room with him it hurts: it hurts to think about him.

Well, that was the general feeling he got from all three of his closest friends in which he had told so far – Ginny most obviously being the more affected, and hence more aggressive from bottling up her frustration.

Harry thumped his desk with his fist in equal frustration as he sat down, holding his head in his hands with his elbows on his desk and letting out a prostrated sigh. How was he to correct all this? He wasn't accepted back to the Burrow, Ron had made that clear. In addition, Hedwig had arrived at his window shortly after his return from the Ministry, clasping a slightly threatening letter that told him not to show up or he would most definitely come out worse for wear.

Harry wasn't going to disrespect Ron for protecting Ginny, most brothers would do the same, and Harry knew that there was more than likely unpleasant things to come his way again – but he would be ready for that when such a time occurs. Until then, he figured his Christmas was going to pass quietly; so he was at least glad that his older friend was most likely getting some during the holidays, even if it meant he would have to, one day in the not so distant future, move out of the way when Nymphadora Tonks moved in.


	16. Chapter 16

16

December seemed to be moving in slow motion. Despite the fact it felt like weeks since Harry had been found out by Ginny when, reality showed it had in actual fact been only two days. She woke up rather early, feeling queasy and feeling as if she could do with more sleep – although she was not actually tired. In a rare occasion, she rose from her bed earlier than both her parents and pulled extra clothing on to keep warm as she made her way downstairs. The edition of _The Daily Prophet_ from the other day with the article on Harry was sitting on the table: several times it had been thrown in the rubbish bin by someone, only to be retrieved shortly afterwards by someone else, wanting to make sure it really had happened.

Ginny thought of it as silly, to keep something as useless and unwanted as this lying around; but she too had been guilty of throwing it out and hastily retrieving it to make sure she hadn't dreamt it all. Her mother was worse; Ginny had caught her at it on a handful of occasions during meal times, and god only knows how often it happened while Ginny was up in her room – which coincidentally, was every other minute of the day.

She glanced at it briefly, feeling her stomach wrench at the sight of Harry standing there posing casually for the photo with the Minister at his side. She had thrown it the length of the table just before her mother came barging in, dressed in her night gown and halting on the spot at the sight of her daughter; she looked quite surprised. Ginny let Harry wander from her mind and shared a brief, happy smile with her mother.

'Good morning.' Ginny said as brightly as she could, although she feared it might have come out sounding slightly sarcastic.

'Ginny,' her mother whispered, striding forward with a worried look upon her face. 'You're up so early, is something wrong?'

'Besides the obvious,' Ginny stated, 'I'm fine-'

'Oh Ginny,' Molly embraced her.

There was a pause. Now that she thought about it, Ginny had not really had an in-dept conversation with her mother about Harry since his upturned concealment - and Ginny wondered if this might be it.

'I know.' Molly said as she pulled back. 'Maybe today, do you suppose?'

Molly withdrew her wand and moved around the table and began bewitching pots and pans from their cupboards while Ginny, turning in her seat to look at her mother, was confused.

'What?' Ginny asked.

'Sorry?' Molly turned to look at her daughter with a blank expression; she seemed to have put down her wand and instead was holding up a spatular.

'Maybe what, today?' Ginny asked.

'Oh.' Molly stood upright. 'Well I just thought that- well I know it's a touchy subject dear but, this news about Harry has affected all of us and- well I just hope he explains himself soon…'

There was a strange moment where Molly brandished the spatular, expecting the stove to turn on and the pancake mixture to start mixing itself. She gave a false, awkward laugh, retrieved her real wand and repeated the spell.

'But that note Ron sent…' Ginny started.

'We were all thinking the same that day,' Molly replied, successful pancakes were beginning to bubble, 'I eavesdropped on Ron and Hermione the other day, they were saying too that Harry might not bother, now that there's little hope-'

'Eavesdropping, mother?' Ginny asked, utterly befuddled.

'Yes well,' Molly turned a shade of scarlet. 'I have your brothers to thank for that- at first it seemed rather rude but, they came in handy during the war and well…'

'Extendable Ears?' Ginny said, sounding slightly impressed.

'Look that doesn't matter,' Molly went on, rapidly changing the subject, 'all we can really do is hope that our newspaper, when delivered by owl this morning, bears some good news-'

'But it won't.' Ginny said hotly, now sitting up on her knees, 'if Harry is under the impression that we don't WANT his explanation, then how is he suppose to-'

She stopped mid-sentence; Arthur had come striding into the kitchen, his travelling cloak already on and his briefcase was swinging at his side and like Molly had done, he stopped abruptly at the sight of his daughter sitting there at the table.

'Ginny,' Arthur said in a slight shock, looking around at his wife. 'Is everything alright down here?'

'Fine.' Molly and Ginny said in unison.

It wasn't a lie, yet Arthur looked at them both strangely before moving to the opposite end of the table from Ginny and sitting down. With an audible 'ah, here we are,' he reached forward and picked up the old edition of _The Daily Prophet_ with a smile on his face. As soon as he had flipped it the right way up, however, he seem to sink low in his chair as he saw the familiar caption upon the front.

'No owl's this morning yet, Arthur.' Molly said from her position at the stove, not looking around.

'Right.' Arthur nodded and casually threw the older newspaper aside; it landed softly atop the old pile of even older magazines in which were a wide range of remedies and recipes that Molly had kept over the years.

'I must say though,' Molly said, putting out plates upon the table, 'they seem to be getting slower by the day, delivering those wretched newspapers-'

'It's those lazy button pushers they got working at _The Daily Prophet_,' Arthur said in outburst, he seemed glad to change the subject also, 'complaints are sent in left right and centre to the Ministry, of course we don't handle small insignificant things such as that – but its caused such uproar lately. There have even been words floating around: about devoting a Department for it-'

'Arthur-' Molly started.

'I know dear, I'm sorry,' Arthur said, 'but it's down right ludicrous. We still believe the aftermath of the war has not yet passed, signs of Dark Arts are rare now, but they still happen and the Ministry needs to have full alert on such matters-'

'No Arthur.' Molly interrupted, pointing to the window. 'It's the paper-'

But Ginny had already gotten up from her chair; Arthur and Molly watched as she crossed to the window and opened it hurriedly. The owl hooted appreciatively and jumped inside, holding out its leg in which the paper was clumsily tied too. She dispensed the five Knuts into the pouch, untied the paper and just as hurriedly slammed the window shut as the owl flew off. She unfolded it, and there was a pause as she stared at the front of it – her mother and father shared a concerned glare – and then Ginny casually dropped the paper onto her fathers lap.

'Cannons won,' Ginny said lazily as she sat back on her seat; she was of course referring to the Quidditch team the Chudley Cannons. 'Didn't you have a bet with Mundungus on that, dad?'

'WHAT?' Molly, who had turned to continue breakfast when there had been no significant reaction from her daughter, span back around in a heartbeat – staring down her husband.

'I-' Arthur winced.

'Arthur!' Molly spat, pointing the spatular at him. 'Is that true?'

'Well I-' Arthur looked around at Ginny, who was looking in the other direction and said nothing. 'Odds were short, dear; the Cannons were missing their good seeker and their best keeper and-'

'You know how I feel about betting on silly little things like that,' Molly hissed, pancake mixture was flying off the spatular.

'I won the bet though, Molly,' Arthur said, checking the scores, 'three hundred and seventy to three hundred. Mung owes me a fair b-'

'Arthur!' Molly snapped, her eyes were narrowed, 'the man has been in Azkaban! He has a record! You know better than to meddle with people like Mun-'

'Mum, the pancakes are burning,' Ginny interjected, looking over her mothers shoulder as light smoke began to rise steadily from the pan.

Molly managed to save them in time and handed Ginny a fair helpings, while she gave Arthur fewer than she would normally; if he noticed, he didn't complain. Though while Arthur was leaving for work, after giving Ginny a kiss on the forehead, he received a rather cold and empty 'goodbye, Arthur,' from Molly and he simply disapparated.

Ginny left rather hurriedly after that, afraid that her mother might press the subject for more information in such a bad mood. So after giving Ron and Hermione the heads up as they made their way downstairs, she went up and retired, once again, to the confines of her room. She had hoped for something in the paper, maybe if Harry had given an explanation, an actual statement of why he had put them all through this – that there could be a chance of redemption, something worth rebuilding.

But for now, she remained in the dark - foolishly continuing to hope.

-

Lupin Lodge was in silence. The brisk blooming morning brought the faint yellow line of light beyond the horizon, distant noises of early birds were flapping their wings overhead and the small gust of winds whipped coolly across the tall tree tops. A person materialized out of no where on the garden path, her bright pink hair seem to stand out against the rising light, and the gleaming travelling cloak tied around her neck swished magically in her wake as she wasted no time in moving forwards.

Nymphadora Tonks didn't even bother closing the door behind her as she passed through it and strode down a hallway. She untied her travelling cloak and threw it carelessly onto the kitchen table, and then she took a sharp right up a flight of stairs and withdrew her wand as she reached the landing outside a bedroom door to her left. For a moment she hesitated, going back over in her head what she was there to say – her intentions were to help those she felt were stuck, and this person was well- err…

Anyway, she thudded hard on the door, but this was unnecessary.

Harry Potter had been awake since the very dull light of the morning had broken through; he seemed to have woken almost instantly and had since then, been staring open eyed at the ceiling lost in thought. He jumped slightly at the noise at his door, his potential trance that he had been in seemed to vaporize and he was raising from his bed and grabbing at his wand.

'Hello?' Harry called out, moving forwards now with his wand outstretched, 'whose there?'

'Open up, Harry,' Tonks ordered, thumping the door again.

Slightly befuddled, Harry moved forwards and tapped the lock; there was a moment's pause where his door clicked open and nothing happened – then it was pushed open and Tonks emerged with bright pink bubble-gum hair, a mousey nose and fabulous grin etched across her face.

'Tonks?' Harry asked in puzzlement.

'Wotcher Harry,' she said, nodding at his wand. 'Put that away, will you?'

'What are you doing here?' Harry asked immediately, stowing his wand in his pocket, 'where's Remus-?'

'My place,' Tonks said, passing Harry and stepping over some of his belongings.

'Did he send-?' Harry started, but was rudely interrupted.

'No.' Tonks said forcibly, leaning up against the windowsill. 'I came here on my own accord, and intend to take you on my own also.'

'Take me?' Harry retorted, looking at Tonks fixedly. 'Take me where?'

'To Ginny of course,' Tonks smiled.

And before Harry could reply, Tonks waved her wand and all of Harry's belongings began to sweep through his room and landed in his trunk. To his surprise, his stray socks linked together magically in mid air and did a little flip back into his trunk; Tonks absolutely beamed.

'Molly,' Tonks said in return to Harry's impressed look. 'Better teacher than my mother as it turns out – she taught me this too, here look.'

Another casual flick of her wand and Tonks seem to make a pair of Harry's old jeans hover up, fold itself inside-out and upturn the pockets so a few Sickles and a stray chocolate frog card fell to the floor. Just as easily, the jeans folded out the right way and then neatly in half, before they floated back casually into the trunk.

'Neat, huh?' Tonks grinned.

Harry stared at her. Short of acknowledging her accomplished charm work, Tonks didn't seem to have considered the astrological effect this move would have. Walking straight up to the Burrow with Harry and a packed trunk full of his possessions, with every impression that he should be staying for a rather long time - it did not feel as if there would be a peaceful outcome. Yet his trunk clicked shut, locked itself and then sat upright, ready to roll; Harry kept looking at Tonks with utter bewilderment.

'You don't understand,' Harry said to her, as she finally looked around. 'I can't just- I won't just walk up to her, it's not that easy. Ron would hex me to London…'

'That's the sort of negative attitude that has kept you into hiding for seven months,' Tonks told him briskly, brandishing her wand at him. 'I tell you if Remus hadn't stopped me from taking you myself, this would have been over weeks ago-'

'Wait, what?' Harry spat, his eyes narrowed. 'You knew-?'

'Do you think,' Tonks started, her mouth moving into a smile, 'that Remus would be able to date me for such time, without letting slip of who was hiding away in his Guest room?'

Harry felt ill.

'So then you've-'

'Known for almost two months now,' Tonks said happily, a smile of confidence seemed to sweep across her face momentarily.

'Still,' Harry said, feeling as if he would punch Remus right now if he was present, 'I'm not going to the Burrow-'

'Then what?' Tonks said suddenly. 'Are you really going to just sit around, twiddling your thumbs and stare aimlessly at the ceiling for the remainder of your life?'

'Well seems as I was given the cold treatment, and told not to go back there,' snapped Harry, he felt his anger rising. 'I thought I might give lying around a try – seems I have no where to go.'

Tonks narrowed her eyes.

'That's not good enough,' she said flatly.

'What?' Harry retorted.

'You heard me!' Tonks flared to her full height; it was about two inches short of Harry's eye level but her impressions were clear. 'Now you should act like a grown up, say you're sorry to Ginny and see if you can't repair a couple of old friendships!'

'Since when do you tell me what to do, huh?' Harry felt his hand twitch towards his wand in his pocket.

'I am –telling- you what to do,' Tonks replied, her eyes narrower still, 'so you cannot ruin your life any more than you already-'

'IT'S NOT YOUR LIFE!' Harry roared; he was unaware that he had his wand out and he had pointed it at Tonks.

Tonks reactions were fast, but Harry's were faster.

'Expelliarmus!' Harry shouted; Tonks' wand landed over near the door.

'Harry-'

'YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!' Harry felt the anger rise quickly, moving forwards and forcing Tonks to back-track – sparks were emitting from his wand.

'I've lost my parents!' Harry said forcefully, 'I've lost Sirius and Dumbledore,' he was ticking off fingers with his wand, 'now Ron, Hermione and Ginny! You don't know how that feels-'

'I do,' Tonks said. 'Sirius' death was hard, but your friends - you can correct that-'

'I CAN'T!' Harry spat in her face.

He began to breathe rather heavily; Tonks' hair had seemed to change subconsciously from bubble-gum pink to a rather fearful white. She was staring at Harry, worried, rather than scared, that he might explode. A moment passed where the room stood silent, the sun had now crept over the horizon half-way and was filling the room; not the half that Harry and Tonks stood in, though, and they remained in darkness.

'I think you should leave,' Harry said hotly, turning his back on her finally. 'I know you meant to help, I know you hoped that things might have been mended today- but that's unlikely to happen. Not today, nor any day I would imagine: tell Remus, I'll be gone after Christmas – there's no point searching for me.'

Tonks didn't move. Her eyes were on his back, Harry could feel it.

'Harry,' Tonks said calmly, Harry did not face her, 'alright, I will go- but know this… you CAN repair this. There is a way- you… you will just have to pull your finger out and find it.'

Harry looked around at her and stared; she was on the threshold picking up her wand. There was a tense moment as they stared each other down, wands drawn, eyes narrowed – but then she had her hand on the doorknob and was preparing to leave.

'And don't leave, Harry,' she added, smiling wryly. 'Remus and I still care for you.'

Harry only half-nodded, unsure of what he should do.

'Merry Christmas then, Harry.'

She pocketed her wand and with a nod, she left.


	17. Chapter 17

17

Remus sat as peacefully as he could at the kitchen table in the Burrow, Molly was shooting him conspicuous looks as she busied herself with lunch, Ron and Hermione were up the other end of the table with their heads together, whispering in low voices – the only person missing was Ginny. She however, took that moment to enter, looking darkly at the werewolf sitting at the table, despite the latest accusations made to him by her; he stood from his chair and greeted her with a smile.

'Ginny,' he said, indicating a chair opposite him. 'If you could, please.'

A moment's hesitation later, Ginny took her seat.

'I suppose, you realise why I am here?' Remus asked her.

She nodded.

'Well good,' he looked around at Ron and Hermione, 'I shall get to the point – this includes you too, as well, and Molly of course-'

'We know, Remus,' Molly said, sitting beside her daughter.

Remus nodded. 'Well then, err- I suppose I should, start by saying that it was never my intentions for Harry to seclude himself for so long, I fear, as I too come to find along the way, that he is not himself.'

'You seem fine,' Hermione said. 'Why didn't you tell anyone?'

'Well you see,' Remus said, 'Harry made me swear an oath.'

There was silence following this statement, Remus feared it could be the calmness before the storm – so he continued.

'Harry made me swear not to tell any of you – in particularly you Ginny,' Remus said, 'it was no Unbreakable Vow, of course, but I like to think I keep to my promises, and that's what I did. It is something, however, for the duration after which he made me promise, I began to regret- for I was seeing Ginny more and more often as she came to borrow my precious books in her correspondence work – it became harder for me to hide the tr-'

'Wait!' Ginny said suddenly, everyone turned to her. 'All those times I made a suspicion of a guest, of perhaps someone else being in the house – two plates out, unlocked doors, breakfast trays – I've only just realised it makes sense now: that was all Harry!'

'That's quite right,' Remus nodded at her. 'But I felt, alone, perhaps as much as he was, if that's at all possible. I knew I could not tell any of you about Harry, but there was one person, however, whom I felt I was safe to confine in telling, so as not to go insane myself and yet still holding that promise.'

'Who?' They all asked in unison.

As if on que, there was suddenly a tiny "pop" that echoed from outside. They all looked around instinctively to see Nymphadora Tonks march in and sit herself on Remus' left (kissing him rather swiftly) and grabbing a piece of fruit. They all watched as she bit into an apple and began to chew, obviously hungry as she had skipped breakfast.

'Well?' Remus asked Tonks, looking around hopefully to see if someone had come with her.

'No luck,' Tonks said angrily, 'he's as stuck up as a mule.'

'Who?' Molly asked.

'Well,' Remus looked eerily at Tonks before turning back to the others. 'You see I hadn't planned on telling you, unless it worked but - I sort of, sent Tonks back to my lodge and well – tried to get her to use her persuasive skills into luring Harry back here to you.'

'He yelled at me, Remus,' Tonks added hotly, 'he yelled at me!'

'What?' Remus snapped.

'Told me it wasn't my life,' Tonks said matter-of-factly, 'that I shouldn't intervene-'

'Well…' Remus breathed, turning to stare at Ginny. 'We should go to plan "B" then.'

'What do you mean?' Ginny snapped.

'I mean,' Remus went on, 'that there is only one person who can fix this-'

'ME?' Ginny asked as Remus was staring at her.

'Yes,' Remus nodded, and explained. 'You see, and try to go with me here – I may be completely right and have absolute confidence in my intelligence from here on. But also, I might be wrong in which case I must say that there are no more obvious roads in which I could travel down, at least none that would help Harry anyway.

'So then,' Remus continued as they all stared at him, 'living with Harry for the period that I have, I can't help but feel that he has possibly suffered some sort of whip lash from the war seven months ago, as if he had been cursed in some way – but he has, evidently, become less like himself-'

'You mean like, perhaps a memory loss?' Molly asked, 'the "Oblivious" charm?'

'Unlikely,' Remus replied, speaking calmly. 'No, I don't believe Harry has lost his memory at all. Rather, I feel that he has been changed with something, perhaps a curse or a spell, but perhaps something psychological as well, and this has dramatically changed the way in which he acts to umm... certain issues.'

There was a gasp and everyone looked around at Hermione.

'Remus no,' she whispered barely. 'You don't mean to say, that, perhaps- no surely-'

'Spit it out, Hermione.' Ron said hotly.

'The Imperius Curse!' Hermione said. 'You think he's under the Imperius Curse?!'

'NO.' Remus said quickly, shaking his head. 'No, of course not – seven months is a long time for a curse like that to be still working. And even still, Harry was the only one in your year that could stand up against the curse- so no, certainly not. He seems to me... more confused-'

'You mean like, he's been Confunded?' Ginny asked.

'Well I'm still uncertain, Ginny, that's why I need your help.' Remus told her. 'It may be that he's Confunded, yes, but it might not be a curse at all. It could be, and I feel that this is most likely, it could simply be his own undoing for his love for you- yes, he does love you, Ginny,' he added with the look of uncertainty Ginny gave him, 'he could be so immensely trapped with the thought of loving you, that it is keeping him from doing anything about it.'

'You're making no sense,' Ron snapped from the end of the table, 'ouch!'

Hermione had stamped hard on his foot, Remus ignored them.

'Let me put it to you this way,' Remus said, his eyes narrow, 'so you can understand, giving the example of yourself, seven years ago, when you first met Harry- I hear, that you were unable to be around him? Was it true that you could not be in the same room as him, and that when you were, you would drop what ever it is you were carrying and turn red?'

Ginny went a slight pink. 'That's right.'

'I gather it was because you were slightly nervous,' Remus went on, without the thought that Ginny already knew all this. 'But really, you fancied him enough and you became paranoid whenever he was around – you feared, that he would never be able to love you- could never ever love you in return for the way you loved him-'

'I still don't see where this is going.' Ron interrupted loudly.

'It is because,' Remus went on calmly, a sweet smile appearing on his face, 'Harry has become Ginny. He has something bottled inside him, unable to surface, something that hurts him enough to become what he is. And I feel...' he looked at Ginny sweetly, 'that Ginny is not telling us something that happened the night before the war, of when Harry took her aside... before going into battle...'

And then Ginny realised what he meant.

'He asked me too...' she said in a whisper, stopping before she could get ahead of herself, 'but- how on earth can- how can you be certain, that that's what's affecting him, Remus-?'

'Would you like to fill us in?' Molly said, looking between the werewolf and her daughter.

'I think, and correct me if I am wrong Ginny, that Harry Potter asked your daughter to marry him,' Remus said calmly, still looking at Ginny, 'the night before Lord Voldemort's defeat.'

There were several different reactions around the table to this. Hermione put her hand over her mouth, as if suddenly realising what everything meant. Molly gasped, did a double-take and looked around at Ginny. Ron, looking as confused as ever and Tonks dropped her apple in surprise, and it rolled along the table.

'Ginny?' Molly stammered. 'Is it-'

'Yes.' Ginny replied, looking at Remus.

Molly shrieked happily.

'I still don't-' Ron started.

'Oh don't you see, Ronald!' Hermione exclaimed, grabbing his shoulder, 'Harry's been hiding because, he's been upset about- oh Ginny why didn't you tell us!'

'I never thought-' Ginny was looking from Remus to Hermione, 'I mean I never answered, I didn't think-'

'Exactly.' Remus nodded. 'He never got an answer from you, and ever since then it's been quite obvious that he has not been himself. He thinks you hate him for asking.'

'But I don't!'

When Ginny realised what she had just said, she rose quickly from the table, apparently leaving.

'You understand right, Ginny?' Remus asked her, smiling sufficiently.

'Yes.' Ginny said.

'Understand what?' Molly asked, still shedding tears from the news of her daughter being proposed too.

'I need to answer, of course,' Ginny said, as though it was rather obvious. 'Or at least go to him- the offer may no longer be on the table but... I think the question is still pending-'

'Seven months!' Molly stated.

'It is nothing,' Ginny said simply. 'Seven months without Harry was hard, a lifetime without him seems, honestly, harder – I am not going to sit here and let that happen. It is time; I took responsibility into my own hands.'

She moved to the door.

'Ginny wait!' Her mother pleaded. 'Think this through.'

'I have for seven months, mother' Ginny said, smiling, 'I will not wait any longer, my decision is made – Merry Christmas, everyone.'

And she promptly left.

-

She felt the lines on her face almost engraved there permanently, grinning as she made her way through the fields of Ottery St. Catchpole at a run, passing through and over anything in her way. Her mind was racing, her heart pounding in anticipation as she drew nearer and nearer to Harry. It had been foolish of her, indeed, to leave it all for so long – to not understand why he had been so seclusive, if she had just said something to him that night, when he had pulled her aside. A hint of a suggestion that she wanted to, because she did – oh lord she did; but there had been such little time, and anyway it now, did not matter.

Lupin Lodge came slowly into view as she moved under a couple of low-growing branches of overhanging oaks, the large old house sat dilapidating with a white panelled finished, and cracked roof tiles where it sat in an oval shaped clearing amongst the trees. Daylight was fading, a brisk wind whipped cautiously at the hem of her cloak as though a large invisible hand was pushing her forwards along the path in encouragement. The strong smell of flowered shrubs hit her at full force as she approached the doorway, such a familiar doorway that she had passed through so many times – and it wasn't until she over the threshold did she realised that it had opened willingly for her, without her touch.

She heard the unmistakable noise of the door behind her clicking back into place as she moved forward, down the corridor and into the small circular kitchen to which before now, she had never really admired. It was rather empty, not dirty as such but it gave the look of having not been used in several days; here and there were scraps of food wrapper, as if someone had just been picking at food rather than bothering to arrange something.

Completely ignorant to this, she marched her way up the vertical flight of stairs, giving herself the impression that she knew where she was going. She had never been upstairs before, yet as she reached the landing and peered wearily across the hallway, the door to her left almost immediately stood out to her. So she could guess that this was the door in which beyond it, she would succumb to the end of her pain that has lasted seven months. And yet, the very same person that lingered beyond this door was in fact the inflictor of her pain to begin with.

After a heavy sigh and a benign thought that told her she could not wait any look, she clenched her right hand into a fist and made forceful contact with the door, knocking cleanly three times and hearing movement within instantly.

'Tonks!' A voice said from within, eerie and cold and yet oddly powerful. 'I thought I told you to-'

Harry stopped on the threshold. Looking back at him was not the broadly build Auror Tonks, but instead was little Ginny Weasley smiling flamboyantly back up at him with her dazzling ginger red hair.

'Hi.' Ginny said sweetly.

Time seemed to slow for Harry, his heart began beating irregularly and his mouth slid ajar and became dry as he stared back at her with amazement. A small bug flew past his ear in slow motion, the indecent buzzing of its wings echoing loudly as it soared, still in slow motion, in the other direction.

'Ginny?' Harry said finally after a rather long pause. 'What are-?'

'Tell me,' Ginny hissed, her eyes were narrowed and serious.

Harry blinked.

'What?'

'Tell me,' Ginny repeated simply, she did not elaborate.

'Tell you what?' Harry asked.

'What you told me seven months ago.'

Ginny found herself whispering now, and although she hadn't meant to do – she felt it had a stunning effect.

'But- I don't- can't-' Harry stammered, completely lost.

'You don't?' Ginny asked bitterly. 'You _can't_?'

'What did- me-?' Harry was fumbling with words, and Ginny was secretly smiling.

'Seven months.' Ginny started. 'You know how long that is? To try and last- to try and compensate with, well let's just say it isn't the same- I'm sure you know, Harry-'

'Know what?' Harry stammered. 'Compensate, what? Ginny what're you talking about?'

'Harry you proposed to me,' Ginny said, 'and I never answered you.'

Harry blinked but said nothing.

'This is why you secluded yourself,' Ginny continued. 'Is it not?'

'I-' Harry looked blank. 'Perhaps.'

'That doesn't matter now,' said Ginny, 'I just need to know... that you're sorry-'

'I am sorry, Ginny,' he said, keeping eye contact. 'Of course I am sorry, and I never meant to-'

'I know.' Ginny replied warmly.

'I didn't think,' Harry blabbered on, trying not to undo anything, 'because I never got a- I thought you didn't- never again!'

'I know.' Ginny nodded; it seemed like it was what she wanted to hear.

Almost without thinking, and certainly without warning, Ginny moved forwards swiftly, and for a fleeting moment Harry thought perhaps she was going to hit him, but instead she simply met his lips. Frozen in confusion, Harry did not kiss back; but Ginny held his face in her hands encouragingly and seemed to ease him into kissing her back, her soft lips were pleasingly fuller than last time he had felt them.

He strained every sort of muscle imaginable on his face, trying to hide the utter disappointment he had as she pulled back to look at him. But the look of pure happiness on her face brought upon his own, something that had not occurred to either of them for over seven months.

'Oh- Ginny,' Harry said finally, licking his lips, 'I've missed that.'

'That's what I thought.'

And as they leaned in to kiss each other again Ginny closed the door, both of them were in the warmth of each others company and in the knowing that the other was alive. From now on there were to be no more secrets, no more pain and no more seven month gap holes in the relationship; if Ginny were to have her way - and you can most certainly think that she would – Harry Potter would be hers for ever.


	18. Chapter 18

18

_HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT by Rita Skeeter._

_Harry James Potter, Order of Merlin, First Class, appeared at my doorstep last night, a broad smile upon his face and the presence of a young lady at his side. He told I, Rita Skeeter that he had decided, upon reasoning by an unknown source that he wished to be given an interview about anything and everything from the night of the Dark Lord's defeat and beyond. So I did not hesitate, nor ask him how he knew where I lived, but instead stepped back to allow him in._

_Potter and I go way back, since we met at the Tri-Wizard Tournament, I remember a young and charming boy who seemed up for an adventure. He and this young lady, whom he introduced as the daughter of Arthur Weasley (Head of Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects) Jenny her name was, enthusiastically took their seats as I offered them a slice of pound cake and Potter was ready to answer any question._

_I asked him immediately, the question everyone wanted to know the answer too. How did Harry Potter, defeat the Dark Lord?_

_He had simply answered, 'He defeated himself.'_

_Upon asking him to elaborate, he told me, 'there will be no need for me to do that, my word is that Lord Voldemort is dead and that should be enough.'_

_I know it is not a complete answer, but despite how much I tried to twist Potter's tongue after this it did not budge, and I was forced to move on and question him about his moves after defeating the Dark Lord._

'_...well I went to Lupin Lodge of course,' says Potter, 'Remus was brilliant, fixed me up, sewed me back together- and cared for me.'_

_So Remus John Lupin, known werewolf, willingly helps Potter to health, despite the fact that he was covered in blood and still bleeding – are we to believe, that a werewolf was able to diminish the scent of human flesh and blood without attack?_

_I asked him this question, and his immediate response was negative._

'_Of course he didn't attack,' says Potter, Order of Merlin, First Class, possible werewolf, 'Remus is harmless, untransformed, but this isn't about him- he helped me come to health, but everything that happened after that was my issue.'_

_He seemed rather definite about this so I did not push the matter. Instead I moved on, asked why he chose to hide away from the world, from his friends and from the Ministry._

'_I was uncertain,' he said flatly, 'I did my job, I killed Voldemort and I managed to survive. I did not, however, know why coming back to the world seemed so hard, I thought perhaps I did not want to be the hero, that I did not want to continue as the centre of attention.'_

_I urged him to continue and he did._

'_So I guess, I stayed secluded because I wanted space,' Potter said, 'I very desperately wanted my friends to know – yet I could not seem to go to them, and they were kept in the dark, also, such like the rest of the world.'_

_Upon asking why he was not able to go to his friends, he replied strongly, 'I don't know! OK?'_

_This very clearly shows us some of Potter's anger, in which he was known for quite a lot during the Tri-Wizard Tournament at Hogwarts in his fourth year. It was rumoured that his scar was forcing him to dispense this anger, or rather a connection to the Dark Lord – now we can safely assume, with the Dark Lord dead, that it is simply his own personality. I took this as a sign to change the subject._

'_Yes,' was Potter's answer to the question of if he stayed at Lupin Lodge whilst in hiding, 'Remus swore not to tell any of my friends, he kept his word and I was able to live there while attempting to set my arrangements in order.'_

_I then asked him, completely off topic, if it was still the place in which he took refuge or if he had moved on from there. 'No comment,' was what I received._

_Then I asked him, as calmly as I could without spoiling the anticipation, of what had happened to his unknown seclusion and why now, he was suddenly coming out of hiding with this interview. And for the first time, I was intrigued to notice that he hesitated here – Potter seem to stiffen and looked to be finding an answer; I thought he wasn't going to before he did._

'_I was discovered,' Potter said simply, 'by someone who will remain nameless, and there are only a certain group of people who will ever know the truth – and there will be no naming of names.'_

_In the light of Potter's anger boiling, I once again found myself refraining from asking a question I so desperately wanted to ask. So therefore, I asked if there was anything he needed to add before I turned to the companion in which he had brought with him._

'_An apology,' was what he said before I could more on._

_I almost dropped my quill at what he said; it was known, widely, that Potter was not one for giving necessary apologies – all the times in which he had turned a blind eye to the Ministry and not apologised is heavily outlined on his record. I allowed, however, the chance for him to continue as it was what he did._

'_Not to the Ministry and not to the world,' he said, 'if anything, it is them who owe me. My apology goes to my friends, those of which have yet to see an apology from me, who have yet to change their mind about me and have yet to celebrate with me upon the arrival of peace, from which now the fall of Lord Voldemort has left us in.'_

_There it is the apology. If it is genuine or not I cannot say for sure, as I simply wrote it down and nodded. Once satisfied that Potter seemed, as reluctant as I am to say it, truthful about what had happened; I turned to his female companion and asked why she had accompanied him._

'_I am making sure,' Jenny Weasley said, very forcefully, 'that you don't say one wrong thing about Harry, that what he has done is completely a mistake and that anyone out there who hates him, who doesn't trust him and who can't find it in their heart to forgive him after his apology – are complete nutters.'_

_And with a final, 'that will do,' from Potter, I succumb to the payment in which I had agreed to confront for the interview, and watched them leave hand-in-hand, each bearing a fresh slice of my world-renown pound cake and leaving me the responsibility – in which I hope I have managed to transcript – that Harry Potter's mistake, was no more._

_Rita Skeeter._

_See page 16, ARE POTTER AND WEASLEY A COUPLE?!_

'Well,' Ginny said with a shrug, as she folded it up and threw it aimlessly over her right shoulder, 'it might not be perfect, but at least you've got the truth out – and that you've apologised.'

'You're right, Jenny,' Harry said mockingly with a grin, 'but don't you want to read that exclusive scoop about Potter and Weasley?'

Ginny stuck her tongue out at him but did not retaliate.

'So now we hope the others come to their senses,' Ginny said, looking out the kitchen window, 'how long do you think..?'

'Let's not wait on it,' Harry told her, looking out also.

'But we _could_ go to the Burrow,' Ginny suggested, 'they might come around, and mum's always liked you, she's bound to – you're just like Percy to her.'

Harry, who had chosen that moment to take a calm and easy sip of Madam Rosmerta's oak-matured mead, gagged on it in surprise.

'I would hope I'm nothing like Percy!' Harry stammered, mead was down his front. 'I mean, Percy was good to come back and all – but he wasn't thought dead, or gone – just a stubborn git-'

'Well that's what you were in the end, really,' Ginny pointed out, smiling sweetly, 'and well Percy was thought that way often, mostly by dad and Fred and George- they deemed him to be dead when Aunt Muriel came over once; George told our Cousin Mark that he didn't have, nor ever had, nor ever even heard of anyone called Percy, and promptly asked Mark why any one in their right mind would want a son named Percy.'

Harry laughed.

'Sorry.' He said quickly, catching Ginny's eye. 'But-'

'It's alright,' she said, passing him a napkin. 'So anyway, are you sure you don't want to go and try?'

Harry pondered this for a moment; his eyes did not leave Ginny's.

'No.' Harry said firmly.

For a minute there was silence. Harry fiddled with the lose handle on his mug as Ginny sat quite still, glaring over him, taking him in. After a minute or so, though, it was Harry who broke the absolute silence.

'If that's not what you were hoping to hear,' Harry started, looking at Ginny, 'I'm sorry. I realise- you would want to spend Christmas with them, I- I thought you might want to stay here or something but-'

'Harry, why wouldn't I?' Ginny asked.

He looked up hopefully. 'So then...' he grinned, 'unless there is any news from your parents, or from Ron and Hermione... will you stay here with me?'

Ginny's puzzled look turned slowly into a smile.

'Of course.'

-

An owl did not come at all that day, not that they would have noticed, Harry and Ginny were having way too much fun together to care. They were decorating the large Christmas tree they had managed to squeeze into Remus' study, hanging all sorts of assortments as well as brightly coloured lights (which Harry produced from his wand) and they each ran around it with a string of tinsel, catching each other for a kiss as they moved around the tree. They also shared a laugh at what Remus might think, if he came home to see an overly decorated Christmas tree in his study that seemed to be shedding bits of tinsel all over his precious books already.

The rest of the day passed rather too quickly in absolute enjoyment, Harry felt the happiest he had been for years and could only react to the flowery scent that followed his nostrils by inhaling it immensely while he kissed her. The scent, of course, reminded him heavily of the Burrow and it was a welcoming scent to smell and taste her with a kiss: she of course did not protest.

They made a rather enjoyable meal together, rump steak with potatoes, peas and mixed vegetables. They talked about the events that had happened during the seven months of being separated while eating. Harry was actually relieved that Ginny laughed out loud at the things that he had done in order to keep his existence to her, a mystery. Such as how he'd skip from the room when he heard her coming, or lock himself up in his room when he knew she was to visit and how he had watched her from afar, sometimes being within meters of the Burrow. He did, however, forget to mention purposely that he had found her alone in Remus' study several times without her knowledge, and had perved on her.

Though that thought was pushed to the back of his mind. He instead became ecstatic when he was able to go up to the Guest room accompanied by another, when he had been alone in it for so long. She actually led him up there, holding his hand in hers and smiling the entire way up until over the threshold. I would, normally, tell in absolute detail the events that took place after the door shut upon the two of them. But quite simply, for the days to come, there were more important matters to attend too.

And I'll just let your own mind imagine what might have happened...

-

Harry and Ginny were surprised Christmas morning, after waking pleasantly from the morning sunlight, to find their stockings were rather more bulky than they should have thought. Certainly, the interview Harry had given seem to help portion this, many people had written in, whether they believed him or not or cared that he didn't explain what really had happened to Lord Voldemort. Most fabulous of all, Harry found a present – sitting rather distinctively towards the top – addressed to him from Molly Weasley. It seemed, as he pulled out a quickly yet well knitted jumper with an emerald green "H" against a blue background, that it was her way of saying she forgave him.

Molly had also put some mince pies and Bertie Botts beans in, Fred and George had sent him the latest Weasleys' Wizard Wheeze assortments, Bill and Fleur got him some rather heavily portioned Oak-Mead and Remus and Tonks together got him a knife that made Sirius' look like a normal butter knife. Disappointedly, though, there was no such luck with finding presents from either Ron or Hermione; Ginny was looking at him when he looked sideways.

'You noticed too, huh?' she said with a smile, shrugging. 'Oh well... can't say I'm not surprised. I'm sure they'll come around- what's that?'

She was pointing at the knife Harry was now holding.

'From Remus and Tonks,' he said, examining it carefully.

'Isn't that the one that melted?' she asked him, 'Sirius'-?'

'No.' Harry shook his head. 'This one seems... better.'

Ginny looked passed the knife and into Harry's now empty sack with a frown.

'I figure you'll notice there's nothing from me in there, either,' she said sadly, 'I didn't know what to get you-'

'-its fine.' Harry said.

'I didn't have any time, really,' she went on, ignoring his words, 'and obviously I knew there would be nothing from you in here, either, so I kind of-'

'-Ginny,' Harry said firmly, turning to her with a grin, 'it's OK.'

He leant in to kiss her as passionately as he dared, without it turning into something more than that.

'Consider me as your present, as I consider you as mine,' he smiled, 'Merry Christmas, Gin.'

She smiled in return.

'Merry Christmas, Harry.'

-

They were joined, rather at short notice, by Remus and Tonks around lunch time, bearing grins and walking over the threshold hand-in-hand. They explained that their belated appearance was because they wanted to give the two of them time, and that they were rather pleased that they had strung back together. Tonks in particularly more so, immediately bound upon Harry and ruffled his hair, calling him a "secluded git" and reminding him how lucky he was – but in the end, Harry knew what she meant and was thankful.

Remus, as they had expected, almost pulled out what grey hair he had left when he discovered his beloved study and rather old book collection had been showered with tinsel from the decorated Christmas tree. Tonks joined in on the laughter with Harry and Ginny, and then went over to remind Remus that there was a simple spell that could clean the mess in an instant. Remus joined in on the laughter after this.

They had Christmas lunch in good spirits, Remus told them he was more than OK to continue staying at Tonks' until Harry had gotten completely in the clear with everyone back at the Burrow. So after they had a bit of Tonks' pudding for dessert, she and Remus left to go have dinner at Tonks' parents – Harry and Ginny took refuge to the sitting room and sat on the warm couch in front of the fire, talking well into the night about... a very happy Christmas.

-

New Years came and went quite rapidly, Harry and Ginny spent it at Lupin Lodge draining Butterbeers together and kissing each other a lot. Harry enjoyed it; they weren't positively drunk, but rather they were sober enough to see through until past midnight where they kissed the heaviest. Her scent was unbelievably overpowering, especially as he could smell it all day and every day. He dreamed about her often, sometimes he would see them as fantasies or things that could not possibly happen, even though she was right there cuddled against him as they slept. He was having the time of his life with her, yet he knew, mere miles away at the Burrow, things were probably getting harder.

A week of so after New Years, when Harry could neither see and ending nor want to see one, fell into bed one night so tired, he had only just fallen asleep when an instant later he was being woken to the taste of Ginny's lips on his own. Light had barely peaked through the windows, Ginny's red hair cascaded around him like a prison cell without escape and she smiled sweetly to his awakening.

'Hi.'

If this was how he was going to wake, every day for the rest of his life, then he'd be fine without Ron and Hermione thank you very much. In fact, his enthusiasm showed as he smiled back, grabbing her waist to pull her onto him and kissed her back. Her scent was unbelievable.

'Hi.' Harry said simply in return once their kiss had ceased.

'Let's go for a walk.' Ginny suggested.

Harry stared at her.

'What time is it?'

'Oh around six,' she replied, looking at the bedside clock, 'it says five thirty there, but I think that's wrong.'

'Why so early?' Harry yawned.

'You'll see.'

Harry did not protest at all as they got dressed and left Lupin Lodge, rugged up against the cooling wind and without breakfast. She held his hand the entire way, unbeknown to him that she had a letter slipped in her hand. He became suspicious, as they made a rather familiar path; and sure enough, over a hill he spotted the Burrow looking rather like a heavily iced, rather quickly built gingerbread house. He stopped to turn and look at her, only now feeling the letter in his hand as he pulled his away from hers.

'Ginny what-' Harry began.

'Good news, Harry,' she said with a smile. 'It's over... read the note.'

Harry stared at her suspiciously, then down at the letter curiously, then back at her puzzled as he opened the letter and returned his gaze to read:

_Harry_

_Ronald and I have come to the agreement, that the interview in which you took part in before Christmas told us enough about your struggle in the seven months of seclusion and that we took in your apology in which I daresay you were aiming at us. We admire Ginny, who you would agree, has shown her love for you is far greater than any sort of burden or hatred could overthrow. We know also, the real reason in which you felt you needed to seclude yourself, and as I'm in an engagement myself, I can understand the reasons behind which you feel._

_Hence, Ronald and I have decided that, despite what you have done, your friendship is more valuable to us than spending the rest of this lifetime abroad. Ginny has forgiven you, Mr and Mrs Weasley have forgiven you, it is now time your two oldest friends forgave you also. So please, come to the Burrow so we may accept your apology in person, rather than leaving words in this letter that cannot possibly begin to describe our relief._

_Love from_

_Ron and Hermione_

_xoxo_

Harry beamed at Ginny, who was smiling at him the entire time he was reading. He closed the letter without a word, slipped it into his pocket, took Ginny around the shoulders and moved with her along the path towards the Burrow that was completely covered in snow. And as the sun rose into day, as friends rose back into friendships and lives were put back together, imagination can only tell how things paned out from there.

What is certain is that the Burning Phoenix will burn forever more.

-

-

Authors Note: Complete.

Well there we have it, finished – yes this is the final chapter or rather the _"finite"_.I sincerely hope you liked it. I am thankful for all of your reviews, they helped me so much, urged me to keep writing and now made me reach that end. So I thank those who have stuck throughout the story, it is people like you in which I dedicate my time to write.

And hey, you never know – you might see me writing something again soon.

Until then, thank you!

And good night.


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